A/N: Hi! Thanks all for reading! Here's the second chapter! I hope you like it! Very OOC vulnerable!Harry in this chapter, but I think I like how it turned out. Anyways, thanks for reading!
Triggers: self-harm, violence
About three quarters through dinner, Severus Snape takes his eyes off of the Boy Who Lived and turns to the headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. "Have you noticed anything wrong with Potter?" From the moment Severus took a look at the boy he realized that he wasn't the same as he was before the war. Of course, Severus knew that nobody was, but Potter had obviously changed the most, being the most important person in the war. None of Potter's friends could see past the glamours he put up, but Severus had spent years developing the power to see past any glamour one could put up, even if that person was possibly the most powerful wizard in the world. Harry's eyes were sunken in with dark circles underneath them, showing how little sleep he got, most like plagued with nightmares like Severus. He had gotten much thinner since the war ended; Severus can see the bones of his hips through his robes. And his eyes, the look in his eyes, it's like they don't even know what happiness is, what any feeling is really. They're just empty. Severus can see that Harry is not doing well, not at all. And, for once, Severus is concerned for Harry Potter.
"Well, he did just fight in a war two months ago, Severus. Of course he's going to be different," Minerva replies, only glancing quickly at Harry. Severus knows that there is something severely wrong with the boy, though, and he's going to find out what.
Harry collapses on his bed blowing his hair away from his eyes. "You okay there?" Draco asks, sitting on the bed opposite Harry. Headmistress McGonagall had grouped different houses to room together to support house unity and it just so happened that she had roomed Harry and Draco together. Neither minded because of the new friendship budding between them, as established earlier.
"'M tired," Harry says into his pillow, inhaling deeply. In truth, he really just wants Draco to leave to the common room so Harry can take the glamours off and go cut himself. One good thing about the eighth year dormitories were the en suite bathrooms connected to each of the separate rooms. Harry and Draco's bathroom was also connected to Ron and Blaise's, with two doors on either end. There were two stalls, two showers, and two sinks in the bathroom. The cupboards were equipped with everything the boys packed for bathroom needs, shaving cream, shampoo, and Harry's favorite, his razors. Although Ron (and most likely Draco and Blaise) use magic to shave, Harry never felt as if he got all the stubble off his chin by using magic and had always preferred the muggle way. And of course, when he figured out how amazing dragging a razor through his skin felt, they came in handy. Harry would much prefer to use his normal blade, a pocket knife given to him by Sirius after he had reappeared from the Veil once the battle with Bellatrix and Voldemort was over, but Harry knew it would look suspicious bringing it in with him to his shower, so he made sure to bring extra razors to take apart and use.
When it became clear that Draco wouldn't be leaving the room any time soon, Harry excuses himself to take a shower. Draco smiles at him, but underneath it is a cloud of worry.
Draco's not stupid and he knows what he saw under Harry's robes. Those cuts were not 'battle wounds,' and frankly, Draco is kind of offended Harry thinks he would believe that. Those cuts were self-inflicted, Draco knows it. He just needs to figure out how to make sure and to get Harry the help he needs. And he thinks he knows exactly who to go to.
Meanwhile, Harry looks at himself in the mirror and cringes. "Too fat," He whispers, pinching the skin on his stomach and grimacing. He didn't eat anything at dinner, just pushing his food around his plate mindlessly. When Hermione noticed and said something, he dismissed it as nerves of being back to school, but he really just can't eat or else he'll get fatter. He moves onto his face, scrutinizing his dark, sunken in eyes and hollow cheeks. He takes in his pasty skin, frowning at invisible blemishes. His unfixable hair sits atop his head taunting him. He feels like ripping it out. Then he looks at his scar, strikingly vibrant against his pale features. He scowls at the thing, feeling more hatred towards his body than ever. God, I'm so fucking ugly. Harry has to stop himself from hitting the mirror in front of him, reminding himself that it's Hogwarts property and not his. In the two months alone at Grimmauld Place, Harry had broken 14 mirrors, repairing them countless times. Next, Harry looks at his arms, stomach, and thighs, running his hands over the countless number of cuts riddled there. His finger traces over the words, weak, pathetic, and worthless written on his thighs. Harry could easily spell away the scars and heal the cuts with magic, but he doesn't want to. He likes the sight of his scars, reminding him that he's human. Anyway, it's not like they could be worse than the curse on his forehead.
He grabs his shower supplies and steps under the warm spray of water. He realizes the water is scalding, but he barely feels it burning against his flesh. Instead, he turns his attention to the three razor blades he extracted earlier. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, knows that it could very easily kill him. 'But that's what you want isn't it?' A voice inside Harry's head whispers to him. 'No,' Harry quickly argues against it, but thinks for a while. Is it what he wants? Harry assures himself that he doesn't want to die, but the more he thinks about it, the more he welcomes the prospect of death.
Harry forces himself out of his suicidal thoughts by dragging the blade across his skin, tugging horizontally and reveling in the blood he sees spilling out of his wrists. He cuts over cuts, opening multiple wounds from earlier, feeling great relief as he watched the blood pour out from his wrists. After his arms are full Harry still feels anxious and full of self-hatred, so he moves on to his stomach. Finally, after cut after cut after cut, Harry feels the relief he needs. Leaning against the wall he lets the stream of water flow over his arms and stomach, exhaling at the familiar burning sensation he feels.
Harry washes up without bother to stop himself from bleeding, but once he feels dizzy he bandages up his arms and makes sure his stomach is not bleeding anymore. He feels tired and drained from bleeding so much that he just throws on his pajamas, long-sleeved of course, and falls into bed without putting up his usual silencing charm, falling asleep quickly.
Harry is in Godric's Hollow, in the house where it all started. Except this time, it's not his parents that are dead in front of him. It's Dumbledore and Sirius. Voldemort is standing over a cowering figure in the corner and Harry seems glued to the spot he's standing in. He hears Voldemort start to say "Avad-" but then he hears someone from the other side of the room cast a stunning curse. Harry turns his gaze towards Hermione and Ron, standing on the defensive, prepared to battle Voldemort. "No!" Harry yells, refusing to let Ron and Hermione hurt themselves for him anymore. They don't seem to hear him as Voldemort turns away from the person in the corner moving towards Ron and Hermione. "No! Stop! Kill me instead!" Harry yells frantically, trying to make his feet move, but it's impossible. It doesn't even seem as if Voldemort or Hermione or Ron or whoever the figure in the corner is can hear him. Voldemort approaches Ron and Hermione and levitates them forcing their wands out of their hands, leaving them helpless. He casts crucio on Hermione, forcing Harry to watch as his friend writhes in agony and pain. He sees Ron struggling to get back on the ground so he can retrieve his wand and save Hermione.
"Stop it!" Ron yells, looking on in horror at Hermione. Voldemort quickly casts sectumsempra on Ron, violent gashes appearing all over his body. Harry watches as Ron's once identifiable body becomes a mass of blood and skin and muscle within a minute. Harry grimaces as he sees Ron trying to counteract the curse, but only causing himself more pain. Voldemort turns to Hermione, throwing her into the wall behind her. Harry grimaces as he hears a few cracks, the force of the hit breaking a few of Hermione's bones. He sees more than hears her gasp and pain as she looks up at Voldemort in terror. She scrambles around for her wand, but can't move much because of her wounds.
"Just do it quickly, please." That's the last thing Harry hears before a green flash of light shoot out of Voldemort's wand, but it doesn't kill Hermione like he's expecting it to. Instead it hits Ron square in the chest.
"No!" Harry and Hermione yell at the same time, tears flowing down both of their faces. Harry's failed. He can't do anything right, not even save his friends. 'God, I'm such a fucking failure,' He thinks as Voldemort turns away from Hermione, gesturing to Nagini. Harry hadn't noticed her earlier, too engrossed in trying to move his feet away from the spot where they're glued to help his friends. Harry cries out as Nagini lashes out at one of his best friends, slowly killing her. At this point, Harry would rather Voldemort just kill her quickly. Anything but this.
Harry turns his attention away from the morbid actions of Nagini, focusing instead on Voldemort and the figure in the corner again, now realizing that the person is Draco. "What to do with the traitor?" Voldemort asks himself, glaring down at Draco.
"Please, my Lord, please don't-" Draco starts but gets cut off by an infuriated Voldemort.
"Silence!" He shuts Draco up with one word. He pulls Draco up by grabbing a fistful of his hair, drawing out a cry of pain. He rips the sleeve of Draco's left arm up, revealing his Dark Mark. He thrusts his wand onto the tattoo and Draco immediately yells out in pain, trying to grasp his forearm. Voldemort laughs at Draco's expense and after what seems like hours removes his wand from the boy's wrist. Draco gasps as he looks at his forearm, the Dark Mark completely gone, leaving the skin open and bloody with muscle and some bone appearing from the unsightly gash. Without a second glance at Draco he throws him under the cruciatus curse and leaves him writhing in pain. Voldemort admires his handiwork as he looks around the room and finally his eyes rest upon Harry.
Once Voldemort's eyes meet the Boy Who Lived, Harry gasps in pain, feeling his scar burn incredibly. "Hello, Harry," Voldemort says, smiling at the boy, leaving him with an unsettling feeling. "Did you enjoy watching your friends die?"
"You're a monster," Harry says, scowling at the Dark Lord. Harry brings his hand up to rub against his scar, still burning painfully.
"No, I think you're the monster," Voldemort replies. "You're the one that killed your friends. You didn't help them at all; you just stood there watching pathetically as your friends died for you, Harry. They fought for you and you let them down."
"You're lying," Harry says, though he knows what Voldemort is saying is true. He failed them. He failed his best friends. They're dead because of him. It's all his fault.
Voldemort laughs. "Oh, Harry. Poor pathetic Harry… Harry… Harry… Harry!"
"Harry, Harry, wake up Harry!" Draco shakes Harry awake bringing him out of his nightmare.
"No, please, stop, get awa-" Harry begins to speak but Draco interrupts him.
"Shh, Harry, you're okay now, you're at Hogwarts," He makes sure to speak calmly even though he has no idea what to do. He woke up about five minutes earlier to Harry shuffling around in his bed screaming no's and stop's. Draco didn't know what to do, but figured that it would be wise to wake up and stop him from proceeding on with his nightmare.
When Harry starts quietly sobbing, Draco pulls him into his arms, hugging him tight. "You're okay, Harry. Shhh, it's okay." He rubs soothing circles into Harry's back, frowning at the hardships of the boy. Harry pulls away from him abruptly and starts breathing heavily. Draco can tell he's on the verge of hyperventilating and knows that he's probably having a panic attack. "Harry, Harry, honey, stop." Draco doesn't know why he uses the pet name, but it somehow feels right.
This doesn't do anything to calm Harry down though and soon he starts scratching at his arms, violently. Draco knows what the boy is trying to do and he quickly puts a stop to it. He pulls Harry's hand away from his arm and pulls up the sleeve. Harry's arms are wrapped in bandages, but he doesn't even move to stop Draco as he pulls away the bandages. Draco has to stifle a gasp as he reveals what's hidden under the wrappings. Draco knew that was he saw was going to be serious, but nothing could have prepared him for this. The cuts on Harry's arms are deep gashes, only just shallow enough not to reveal his muscle and fat underneath. If there was any fat under there. Draco had watched Harry at dinner and knew he wasn't eating nearly as much as he should.
"Oh, Harry," Draco says, looking up at the boy's face. "Why?"
Harry looks back at Draco, but his eyes are completely devoid of any type of emotion. He starts wrapping the bandages up over his cuts again, reminding Draco of a zombie, moving but not really acting like he has a purpose. Harry doesn't say anything to Draco and just lays on his side, facing away from the ex-Death Eater. Draco only moves when he hears the quiet cries of the boy and sees the slight shaking of his shoulders. Then he moves under the covers of the bed with Harry and wraps an arm around the boy. "Shh, Harry, it's okay. I've got you. You're okay, you're safe here. I promise." He gives a slight kiss to the back of Harry's head before he feels the boys breathing even out, knowing that he fell asleep.
Draco knows that he can't keep this a secret anymore. Harry's already gone too far; Draco can't let him do any more harm to his body. He would never forgive himself if he did. After deciding that Draco's going to tell someone the next day, he falls asleep, dreams full of a boy with dark hair and vibrant green eyes.
The next day, after Draco's fourth class of the day, he knocks on the door of his favorite professor. He hears shuffling behind the door and soon it opens, revealing the office inside.
"Come in, Draco," Professor Snape says, closing the door as he steps into the surprisingly cozy office. "What brings you here today? I'm sure you aren't having any trouble in any of your classes."
"No, Sev… I'm here to voice my concerns about another student," Draco replies, somewhat nervous in front of his godfather. Draco knows he has to do this, but that doesn't make it any easier.
"Ah… About Potter, correct?" Sev answers, looking up at Draco through his long, dark locks. He gestures towards two chairs in the sitting room off to the right of his office and he and Draco both sit. Severus knew that Potter was getting closer to Draco, and he saw how concerned Draco looked every time he looked over at Potter during the now three meals they had shared together in the Great Hall.
"...Yeah," Draco says, not at all surprised that his godfather knew who he was talking about. He knew that Severus had always been wise and observant, and had a history of depression himself, which is why Draco had decided to look towards him for advice. He knew the man would be understanding and that he and Harry had had a change of heart during the war. He, of course, didn't know how or why, but he knew it had happened, even if Sev doesn't like admitting it and still calls Harry by his last name. "Sev… He's cutting himself."
Draco hears Severus gasp and turns to see his reaction. He can tell the man is shocked, and he himself is surprised that Sev hasn't already figured it out. "I first saw them on the train, his robe sleeve rode up a little and I saw the scars… He told me they were from the war… Like I'd believe that. And then last night he had a nightmare, a bad one by the sounds of it. So I got up and tried calming him down, but he started hyperventilating and trying to scratch his arms. I got him to stop and then lifted up his sleeve. He didn't even try to stop me, Sev. Just let me do it. He covered them in bandages and when I took them off. Oh, God, Sev, it was bad. Really bad." Draco is in tears when he finishes and Severus quickly places a comforting hand on his knee. He can see how concerned Sev is, and knows that he's done the right thing.
"Thank you for telling me, Draco. I know it was hard. You came to the right person. I'll talk to the boy tomorrow," Severus gives him a rare smile and stands up. "I have some paper work to do now, but if you need anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to come back. Thank you again for telling me, Draco."
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Sorry I took so long to update, I'm trying to do it every week, but yesterday i had to go to bed early to wake up early today, so I didn't have time to write it all. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome! Nicole