A/N: Next and final chapter, guys. Maybe I'll write about these guys in another fic, but this is it for Love Yourself. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, followed!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Ernie spent the entirety of his ten minutes pacing back and forth in front of the door, mentally scolding himself for doing this. He tried to keep a steady pace to calm himself, but he only managed to increase his panic, frantically moving to each side with anxious steps. When Baz answered the door, dressed in a pale yellow V-neck and dark jeans, Ernie shakily reached for the handle. "Hey," he said, and Baz smiled.

"Hey, yourself. I brought you some..." Baz held up a small white paper bag. "It's fudge. You like the caramel ones, right?"

Baz always knew how to make Ernie feel better. "Y-yeah," he said, surprised. "Yeah, I do. Do you want to—" He gestured inside.

Soon they were both inside of the flat and Ernie was yet again faced with a decision: show him or break it off. He swallowed, shoving his hands as deep into his pockets as they would go.

Baz, concerned, ducked a little so that he could meet his eyes. "Did you—did you want to tell me something?"

Ernie nodded.

"About...what?"

He closed his eyes for a good ten seconds, swaying on his feet. Soon the words were spilling from his lips faster than he could stop them— "I've never—never shown anyone this," he said, and it was true. The morning when he had returned to his dormitory from been flogged, he had Healed himself. He had dragged himself, nearly unconscious from the pain and blood loss, all the way to the bathroom, where he had locked the door and turned on the bath. He had woken up in a scary pool of his own blood and crawled to the tub, the cool water kissing his hot, wounded skin. He hadn't wanted anyone to see his back. Hannah Abbott had left a Blood-Replenishing Potion, some Murtlap Essence, and basic medical equipment outside the door, for she had known that the whip had been coated with Dark magic and would not be easily fixed. She had begged him to allow her to help him, but delirious in his shame and pain, he had refused. He had wrapped white cloth around himself and worn thick layers of bandages beneath his clothing for weeks after. The wounds had not truly healed until nearly a year after the occurrence, and still pained him to this day.

"I—I—I—" It soon became clear to Ernie that he could not explain his experience in words, so he faced the wall, reminded violently of the time when he had been forced against the wall by Amycus and shackled to it— He stopped his train of brutal thought and extended his arm behind his back and reached for the collar of his T-shirt.

"Ernie—" Baz began, but Ernie kept going. He gripped it and pulled it over his head, revealing his most precious secret to his most precious person. He heard the younger man's breath halt in its tracks— "Sweet Jesus." —and then flinched as a cold hand touched his shoulder. "Ernie," he said, his name like a question. "Who—who—what happened?"

Ernie shrugged. His head was down now, weighed down with the guilt of what had happened.

"Did someone—who—" Baz's finger traced the leftmost scar; a long one that had torn deep into the muscle of his shoulder and curled around his side like a backwards C. "Ernie... Were you—" For once, his smooth-talking, confident boyfriend could not find the words to express what he wanted to say. "Who did this to you?"

Ernie shrugged again. Surely, if he opened his mouth, then the truth would come exploding from his lips.

Both of Baz's hands were on him now, outlining each and every scar the lined his back. "What—how did this—were you...were you abused?"

The question shocked Ernie, although it seemed like a reasonable guess. He shook his head.

"Then how—was it on purpose? Did someone...did someone—"

"No, no..." Ernie didn't know how to explain it.

"When did this—when did it happen?"

"I was seventeen," he whispered, and Baz reeled in shock.

"You—what? How? Who?"

Ernie hadn't realized that he'd been crying this whole time.

"Oh, Ernie, love, please don't... Oh, please... Don't cry, please don't cry. Ernie..." Baz kissed his shoulder, his hands on either of Ernie's upper arms. "You're okay, you're alright, you'll be fine..."

Ernie's head was in his hands, covering up his face and his tears as he tried to suppress them. His crying was stranger than most; he cried loudly, with hiccups and sobs lining every word and throwing his body forwards. It made his extremities tremble, and when he tried to tell Baz that he was sorry that he couldn't explain, it came out as, "Baz—oh—please, oh—oh, please, forgive—I can't—oh, Baz..." Each word or two was isolated between his sobs. Soon he was trapping himself in his arms and hyperventilating, barely able to breathe, not knowing why he'd put himself in this situation—surely Baz hated him now, hated his scars like Ernie himself hated them...oh, Merlin, what had he done?

Ernie was on his knees now, keeling over, barely able to suck in a breath, his head spinning and tears still coming... Then Baz was in front of him and his arms were around him and he was assuring him, holding him, cradling him, saying, "You're okay, you're okay, Ernie, everything's okay now, love, you're just fine, shhh..."

Soon Ernie was calm again and his face was pressed into Baz's chest, relishing in the comfort and safety of his arms, and Baz stopped rocking him and was speaking again. "Ernie? You okay now?"

He nodded.

"You want me to let go?"

He shook his head. "Just hold me," he whispered, and Baz nodded in response. He held the wizard in his arms, and Ernie clutched him like a lifeline for a silent, shaky minute or two. He knew then that he had to tell Baz the truth. "Baz?"

"Yes, love?" His voice reverberated through Ernie.

"I..."

"You want to tell me what happened?"

He nodded into his yellow shirt like a small child afraid to confess having broken something to his mother. He sat up, releasing himself from Baz's comforting arms. Baz crossed his legs and sat in front of him, trying to read his boyfriend's expression. Ernie kept his eyes on his hands. "I-I-I—" He stopped himself again. What was he so afraid of?

"We'll just start simple, Ernie," Baz assured him, "okay? No worries, yeah?"

His voice, soft and gentle, induced a nod from Ernie. "Okay."

"If you don't want to answer something, you just let me know, okay? I'm not going to force you to tell me, okay?"

"Okay."

Baz took a deep breath. "Can you tell me what made those scars?"

"It...I..." He was wringing his hands, twisting his ring over and over again over his index finger so that it made a small red mark around it. "A..." He barely spoke the last word. "Whip."

"Someone whipped you?"

"I...yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Baz noticed what Ernie was doing with his ring and reached for his boyfriend's hands, interlacing their fingers. "Why?"

"Because...because I...I was being punished."

"For what?"

"I...I didn't..." Ernie took a deep breath, using Baz's beautiful hands as his outlet. "I tried to save someone."

"And you were punished for that?"

"Yeah."

"Was it a family member?"

"No." His family had all been dead by that point; killed by other Death Eaters and one of the Carrows themselves.

"A boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

"No."

"An adult?"

Ernie was hit with a pang of emotion that he couldn't recognize. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes."

"Friend of the family? Uncle, something like that?"

He shook his head. Again, no family.

"Teacher?"

Ernie didn't know what to say, so he just slowly nodded, his throat closing painfully at the memory. His vision blurred with tears, and he tried to scrape them all away.

"Oh, god, Ernie..."

He shrugged, trying to brush off his boyfriend's obvious shock. "It...it was normal. It was nothing, really. This is—this is stupid, I'm sorry—"

"Don't you dare apologize for this, Macmillan," he snapped, and Ernie flinched.

"Please, please," he whispered, and he was curling in on himself as if he could throw a Disillusionment charm on himself. "Please, don't—"

"Jesus, Ernie, I didn't mean to scare you, I just—oh, god, Ernie, I'm sorry..."

All Ernie could hear was his last name ringing in his ears... Macmillan, Macmillan, Macmillan...

"Macmillan, get up here right now," his teacher snapped, and twenty pairs of eyes to look at him. He didn't move. "Macmillan!" She never called him by his first name.

Ernie, head bowed, tried to ignore the fact that the pool of blood from the lifeless student in the front of the room had spread to where he was standing and answered, "Yes, Professor?"

"Don't get smart with me, boy," she told him, and she waved her wand, seizing him by his throat with an invisible hand and raising him slowly in the air. She was not in the mood to negotiate punishments. Ernie clawed at the hand, his throat closing, prickles of sensation running over his neck. "Was it you?"

"Wha—don't—can't," he choked out, realizing that he could not remove something that was not there. He was scraping at his own neck and leaving long red marks in his own skin.

"Answer me, Macmillan!"

His eyes rolled back into his head; he could not breathe.

"Answer me!"

Ernie was crying again, stumbling to the side, having lost his balance due to the sudden memory. He was on the floor on his hands and knees and Baz was trying to comfort him. "Jesus, Ernie, I didn't mean—are you—oh, god, Ernie, did I—what did I do? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please forgive me..."

Ernie managed to calm himself enough to tell him. "I..." He sniffed again, trying to rid his face of its chaotic look. He rubbed his raw eyes. "They only used—when they punished me...they only my last name."

"Ernie, I'm sorry, I didn't know, I'm sorry—"

"I know. It's...it's not your fault."

"I just...they? There was more than one?" He nodded. "Oh, god, Ernie, how did this happen?"

This was the point where Ernie had to make a choice: betray the magical world or tell Baz everything. This was why he shouldn't have dated a Muggle—this was why he should never had said yes to Baz—this was why he should never have opened up this much—

"Ernie?"

"There was a war," he said, his first true word about his back.

"What?"

"A war," he repeated. Although he could clearly sense Baz's confusion, he continued. "Death Eaters took over the school and they killed Dumbledore. Snape took over as headmaster and they—they put the Carrows in charge of punishment. They changed everything. They started torturing kids in detention and putting kids in the dungeons when they wouldn't obey."

"Death—Dumble—Carrow—torture—what?"

"There was this group of kids we called Dumbledore's Army. I was one of 'em."

"Ernie—hold on. I don't understand, what—"

Ernie had no plan to stop. "We set up missions around the school to recruit more kids, get their spirit going. We didn't want to give in. The Carrows had put a bunch of kids in the dungeon the day before for stupid things, really, but they'd had 'em all chained up to the ceiling without food or nothing'. We'd heard them screaming and we knew we couldn't just sit there while the Carrows tortured 'em. the D.A. got together with a plan to break them out." Ernie was twisting his ring again. "She—we—they found us trying to break in to the dungeon and everyone ran." His chest grew tight with emotion. "I was the only one who got caught."

"The...Ernie, wait—"

His voice was hollow. "They took me into the dungeon and chained me to the wall. They told me that it was a stupid decision, a suicidal decision to break into the dungeon, and that I had to learn my lesson, and..." His voice cracked. "They tortured me." Baz opened his mouth to talk but Ernie cut him off again. "Oh, Baz, you don't understand—th-th-they tortured me. They whi-whipped me until I couldn't—I didn't think I had any skin on my back left..." He was sobbing again, and Baz didn't hesitate to take him into his arms again. "It hurt so bad, Baz, i didn't—there was so much blood, I was there for so long, so long... oh, Baz, I couldn't seem to die in there—why didn't I die in there?"

"Ernie, don't—"

"No, Baz, please, I just—I didn't—I wanted to die, it hurt so bad. I wanted to die."

For once, Baz was quiet. "These...people," he said finally. "The Carrows? Who are they? Teachers?"

"Yeah. Brother and sister."

"And they...they're the ones who...who whipped you?"

"Yeah."

"And what was this...this war?"

"Second Wizarding War," Ernie said simply. "Resurrection of Lord Voldemort."

"Wizard—lord—what? Ernie, you're not making any sense."

"You think I'm making this up."

"No, no, love, I don't—"

"You think I'm a nutter."

"No, no, of course not. Ernie, look at me." Ernie raised his head and the way he looked at Baz shattered him. In his eyes... There was no possible way he could be lying. The look that Ernie held behind his eyelids could only have been created by a war. "I know you wouldn't lie to me, yeah? That's probably why you had a hard time telling me, right?"

Ernie didn't understand why Baz was taking it so well. "Yeah."

"Well, then, let's start from the beginning, okay?" he suggested. "Then I can really understand what's going on."

"But—"

"And then," Baz interrupted, placing his finger over Ernie's lips, "maybe then I can help you learn to love yourself."


A/N: I love happy endings. Hopefully, you guys liked it! Let me know what you think!

Challenges used:

Fanfiction Writing Month: November []

If You Dare Challenge - #422 (Steady Pace)

Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #402 (restriction) Golden Trio era WITHOUT one of the Golden Trio appearing

The Golden Snitch - Through The Universe - Fred Weasley - 14 inch - Write about a Hufflepuff character.