A/N: I am so so so so so sorry for not updating sooner. I was visiting family and got back to my house yesterday. I would have uploaded from my phone, but it's broken and is doing really crazy stuff. I am SO sorry. But here's the third chapter. I think it's longer than the first two, but I don't know if I like it as much. Please review and leave constructive criticism! Thanks for reading!

Triggers: self-harm, suicidal thoughts

"Harry," The Boy Who Lived turned around abruptly as he heard his name. He had taken a while to pack up his belongings after potions class. He hadn't been surprised to hear Snape calling for him after class; he'd had a particularly terrible day and his cauldron had nearly exploded. What surprised Harry was that Snape had called him by his first name. Harry was sure that Snape would only do that once Hell had frozen over.

"Yes, sir?" Harry questions, walking over to his professor's desk. Hearing his first name come out of Snape's mouth worried him already, but Harry instantly became riddled with anxiety when he saw the serious look on Snape's face.

"Please follow me into my office," The potions professor says, walking briskly into his office, black robes billowing behind him. With a deep sigh, Harry drags himself into Snape's office, dreading what might be waiting for him.

"Am I in trouble, sir?" Harry asks, sitting down on the couch in Snape's office.. The professor surprises Harry by sitting down next to him.

"No… I called you here to talk about something… Draco came to me yesterday, Harry. He told me some quite unsettling things." Snape looks at Harry with sad eyes, and the boy immediately starts inwardly panicking.

'Fuck. I knew I shouldn't have told Draco. No… This can't be happening. I'm dreaming, having a nightmare. That must be it. This is not happening.' Harry thinks. Severus watches as his eyes dart around the room, probably trying to find an escape. He stands abruptly and rocks back and forth dizzily. "Harry, sit down. We need to-" Snape gets cut off when the boy starts hyperventilating. He gets up and tries calming Harry down, but it's clear it's no use. It's obvious to Severus the boy is having a panic attack, as he has suffered through many of those while Voldemort was in reign. "Harry, Harry, listen to me. It's going to be okay. I know you're scared, but you're going to be okay. You can get through this, Harry."

When Severus finishes speaking, Harry has calmed down quite a bit. He's still a little shaky, and his eyes are still unfocused, but he's calm enough that Severus can talk to the boy. "Harry… I know this is scary. I know you don't want people to know about what you're going through, but I do know. I just want to help you, Harry. I know it's overwhelming, having this thrown on you, but you need to stop Harry."

"St-stop what? I have n-no idea what you're talking about," Harry says, quickly glancing around the room. Severus sighs, knowing Harry's lying and that he'll probably have to do this the hard way.

"If there's nothing wrong, would you mind pulling up your sleeves?" Snape asks, grimly. The professor doubts Harry would be smart enough to put up glamours, especially after hearing how much he wasn't himself last night by Draco. He hadn't even remembered to put up silencing charms to shield Draco from hearing his nightmares.

"No." Harry replies defiantly. He crosses his arms stubbornly.

"Potter." Snape threatens. "Do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?" The professor grimaces at sounding so cliche, but he doesn't know how to phrase his words any other way.

"Professor, there is nothing wrong. I'm fine, I promise," Harry says, standing his ground. Snape can see his scowl and can read the boy easily, knowing he's lying. With the use of some quick wandless magic on Severus' part, Harry's arms are thrown in front of him and his sleeves are rolled up. Severus holds in a gasp as he looks at the boy's mutilated arms. He looks at the scars and the new cuts, some obviously created that very morning.

"Oh, Harry." Severus says, running a finger up over the boy's scars. "Why?"

The Boy Who Lived tries desperately to wrench his arms away from the potions professor's grasp, but the man is too strong. "Please, please, sir let me go," Harry cries, tears streaming down his face. "Please…" Harry begs, tears now streaming down his face. Harry sobs loudly desperately trying to get away from the professor.

Severus pulls Harry into his arms, hugging the boy tightly as he cries. Harry sobs into the man's chest. Snape leads them to the couch and Harry curls up next to the ex-Death Eater, crying loudly into his shoulder. "I'm sorry… I'm so so sorry," The boy says.

"Oh, Harry, it's okay," Snape replies, clutching the boy tightly, scared he would run away if not. "You're going to have to talk about this, you know."

Severus sees and feels Harry shudder and the boy pulls away from him, sniffling. "I-I know… But… n-not today… S-sorry." Severus nods sympathetically at Harry.

"I understand. Why don't you come visit me tomorrow and we can talk some more?" Severus says gently. "I do understand what you're going through, Harry. Maybe not to it's… full extent, but I do understand. Trust me."

"O-okay, professor," Harry replies shakily. Severus pulls him into another hug, embracing him quickly. When he release the boy, Harry gets up quickly and slightly awkwardly and hurries out the door. Severus sighs when he leaves and rests his head in his hands.

Severus felt terrible for the boy. He'd been through so much; he was obviously suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder. Severus knew that because that was what he had been diagnosed with himself. He doesn't like to think of it very much and now only sees a healer once a month for it, but most nights he still has nightmares about the suffering Voldemort put him through. Not nearly as much suffering the Dark Lord put Harry through though, a voice in Severus' mind speaks up. I put him through much suffering as well, Severus thinks back to the voice. He knows blaming himself for Potter's depression isn't going to do anyone any good, though, so he dismisses those thoughts quickly. The boy needs to see a healer. After deciding that Severus will talk to Macy, the young healer he's been seeing since the end of the war, he distracts himself from the Boy Who Lived and his problems by grading horrendous potions papers written by his first year class.

Harry knocks on Severus' door the next night after dinner, anxiously awaiting his talk with the professor. Almost immediately after his fist comes in contact with the door, he hears the man's voice from inside telling him to enter. Harry walks in, almost regretting his decision to show up.

"Hello, Harry. Please, sit down," Severus gestures to the place next to him on the couch and Harry sits. "Now, I don't want to try to understand why you do what you do, but I will try to help you through this hard time. Is that okay?"

"P-professor, don't take this the wrong way, but I… I really don't think that I n-need help," The boy replies, fidgeting slightly. It's true, Harry doesn't believe he needs help. His self-harm isn't an issue in his eyes. He doesn't cut too deep, and he's been doing this for months without anything too bad happening. Plenty of people cut themselves and nothing happens to them, and they don't get help. If they don't need help then Harry doesn't need help.

"Harry… I know you don't want help. I know you don't think you need help. I understand. But, trust me, you do need help. You want to know how I know?" Snape stops and waits for Harry to give a slight nod of his head. "Because that's exactly what I thought too, Potter. And I didn't get help until it was almost too late. Only three people aside from the healers that treated me know, but I tried to kill myself six months ago." Severus paused again to let Harry absorb his words, as he knew what he was saying was rather heavy. "I'd taken a death potion and if it weren't for Minerva finding me and being able to administer the antidote before it was too late, I would not be here right now. Against all of my deranged pleading to not be sent to St. Mungo's, Minerva quickly apparated us both there and I'd stayed for only about two weeks. They said that although most patients that were in similar situations as mine would stay in the psychiatric ward of the hospital once they reached top physical condition, but after talking to Minerva, my healers had decided it was best for me to stay with people I trusted and a healer come visit me there." Harry looks up at the professor curiously, and Severus knows his next question before it even leaves his mouth. "I stayed with Draco and his mother at their new manor in France."

Harry hadn't known the Malfoys bought a new manor. Now, he assumes that they both wouldn't want to stay in a house that had been plagued by so much evil, and that reminded them both of Lucius, locked up in Azkaban for the rest of his life. "I'm sorry, professor," Harry tries offering his condolences. He feels slightly awkward hearing Snape admit this to him. Of course, the boy feels terrible, but Harry doesn't know a thing about comforting Professor Severus Snape.

"No reason to be sorry. Anyway, a healer first came to see me every other day. I hated it at first, and most of our sessions consisted of her speaking, trying to get through to me and then giving up after it was clear I would not be speaking, and then sitting in rather uncomfortable silence. It took me a month to finally start speaking to her. It started off small; I usually spoke of your mother. Then our sessions became about my father, your father, his unworthy friends, and finally Voldemort. We'd both discovered he'd been the base of my issues, well, after myself of course. She'd diagnosed me with something called post-traumatic stress disorder, on top of the manic depression they'd diagnosed me with at the hospital. Of course, I wasn't happy with either of those. I'd raged about it for days, ranting and raving about how I wasn't some crazy lunatic in need of psychiatric help; I was a victim of the Dark Lord who just so happened to believe he didn't deserve to be living." Severus hadn't meant to let that slip so crudely, but as it had already been done all he does now is look at Harry, gauging for a reaction out of the boy. It doesn't seem Severus' admittance to his self-hatred fazed the boy that much, so the professor continues. "I've of course… accepted those things now, even though I may hate those parts of me. You do know what these disorders are, correct?"

Harry shakes his head at his professor and then clarifies, "Well, I know what PTSD is, but the other one I'm not so sure about."

"Manic depression. You might recognize it's other name? Bipolar disorder. My healer described at as a 'complex mood disorder.' I have episodes of major depression more often than mania, though. I don't think I'll have to explain to you the part about depression, but mania is just a period of extreme elation. I'm more often than not neutral these days, not experiencing an episode of either, but sometimes it still affects me."

"I think I understand, sir," Harry can't believe what his professor must have gone through. Harry can't imagine being diagnosed with two things that sound so terrible. To one day be incredibly depressed and upset and then the next to be elated with happiness? Harry knows that it must be more complicated than that, but it still sounds horrible.

"Do you want to know how I got through all of this, Harry?" Professor Snape asks. His answer is in the form of a vigorous nod from the Boy Who Lived and he goes on to say, "By talking to my healer. And I strongly believe you should, too. I fire-called her last night. Her name is Macy. At first she was worried I'd done something to myself, but after telling her I was fine, I told her about your predicament. Her and I both believe that you may have post traumatic stress disorder, as well, Harry. She wants to see you as soon as you feel up for it, even if you sit there saying nothing the whole time."

Harry shakes his head, desperately not wanting to talk to anyone else about how he feels and what he does to his body. "Sir, I don't need that," He says, trying to sound convincing.

"I think you and I both know that's false," Snape replies. "I know you're not going to like it, but you're going to have to do it. Whether you like it or not, I'm setting you up to see Macy next week. Friday. Does that give you enough time to sort out your thoughts? I'm afraid that's the latest we'll be able to do it, Macy only does emergencies on weekends and I don't want you waiting for the next Monday. Or would you like it earlier?" Severus knows the boy will keep the date the same, but he still puts the option out there. Harry shakes his head again dejectedly before Severus asks, "Where would you like it to be? You could have it in here, in one of the classrooms not used by teachers, in the headmistress' office? Don't worry, she doesn't know yet." Severus tacks on the point about Minerva not knowing as not to scare Harry away and then the boy answers.

"Um, c-could we just have it i-in here, sir?" He asks timidly.

"Of course, Harry," Severus says with a small smile. "I'll fire call Macy later and tell her that we'll meet on Friday. Would you like me to join in on your session? I know it's much easier with someone you trust with you as well. I had Draco join me in on quite a few of my sessions, and I'm sure Macy wouldn't mind."

"W-would that be alright, p-professor? I don't want t-to pull you away from your w-work," Harry replies nervously. He wants Severus to be there, but he's scared that the man will get mad at him for distracting him from his much more important things than Harry. The boy doesn't even know why Hermione and Ron bother hanging out with him much anymore.

"Harry, it would be perfectly fine. I don't have anything more important than my students well being," Severus says, sounding oddly out of character to Harry. "What time would you like? Of course I can do any time suitable to you, but it would probably be easiest if you got out of class and came down during my open period. I believe that on Friday during that time you have History of Magic, right before lunch. Would that be okay with you?" Harry nods and Severus pulls him into a tight embrace. "You can do this, I know it will be hard, but I believe in you." Severus finds it ironic that seven years ago, if someone had told him that now he'd be clutching the Boy Who Lived as if he were his own son and telling him everything would be okay he'd have laughed in their faces and then sent them to St. Mungo's himself. Severus almost laughs at the situation now until he feels the shaking of Harry's shoulders and feels the wetness of the boy's tears on his chest. "Oh, Harry, it's okay. You're going to be okay. You're strong, you can do this."

Harry nods and pulls away. "Thanks professor." He gets up and leaves, leaving Severus alone with thoughts of how to help the boy and make him believe how perfect he truly is.

When Harry is sure Professor Snape can't hear or see him he starts off in a run, bursting into the unused girls' bathroom, the one most often holding Moaning Myrtle. After Harry is sure the ghost isn't in the bathroom he shrugs off his robe and lifts up his shirt. Pulling his sharpest blade out of his bag, he brings it down on his scar-littered stomach slicing horizontally, sighing in relief as he sees the blood rush out of the wound. As Harry cuts he thinks of how worthless he is, how unworthy of this life, how stupid, fat, pathetic, ugly, useless, and how much of a shitty person he is. I'm not strong. I'm not strong at all. Professor Snape was lying. I'm weak. I'm not going to get better. I can't do this. I'm never going to be okay. Harry finishes by pressing the blade deeply into his stomach one last time and then wraps up his abdomen. He looks up into the mirror and presses his fingers onto his face, touching under his sunken in eyes, fingers moving to his dry chapped lips, his hollowed out cheeks, finally up to his scar, grimacing at the ugly mark left on his skin for eternity. Harry hates his scar almost as much as he hates himself. He wishes he could cut it off. Harry stops looking at himself and falls to the floor curling into a ball. As he feels a familiar numbness take over him, he's left with one thought. I wish I was dead.

The thought shocks Harry, enough to leave him without numbness. He doesn't want to die, does he? As the Boy Who Lived asks himself this question, he almost immediately gets his answer. Yes, I do. I want to die. I don't want to be here anymore. I can't do this anymore. I'm so tired. I just want to feel okay again. Harry starts getting his blades out again to finally finish himself off but he stops. No, he thinks, not today. I have to plan this if I want it to work. I can't just cut myself. I'll get Draught of Living Death like Professor Snape did, as well as cutting, and finish myself off that way. I just need to figure out how to get hold of it.

"Harry, are you okay, mate?" Draco asks, concerned for his friend. "You look upset."

"I'm fine, Dray." Harry replies. Dray? God, you're such an idiot. As Harry had talked to Draco more throughout the two days they'd been friends, he realizes that he may end up feeling for Draco as more than just a friend. Harry knows he can't let that happen, knows that it would do him no good to get attached to another person before he leaves the world for good.

Harry sees Draco blush at the nickname. "Dray? I like it," The ex-Death Eater replies. Oh, thank God. Harry can't imagine the embarrassment he'd feel if Draco hadn't liked the name. "So.. Harry… did, um, did Sev talk to you?" After a couple seconds and Harry realizes who the 'Sev' Draco's referring to is, the boy nods. Harry had avoided Draco since Snape had talked to him the first time, not wanting to have to explain what happened. "I'm sorry I broke your trust, but Severus knows what you're going through, he understands." No, he doesn't, Harry's mind retorts and Harry holds in a scowl. "I know you didn't want me to tell, but I know he can help you and he's a very trustworthy person. Um… what did you two talk about?"

"H-he wants me to see a healer," Harry says, so quiet he's almost whispering. "He said that he'd t-talk to her and that we could m-meet on, um, Friday, in his office."

"That's great, Harry! I'm so proud of you for being able to talk to someone," Draco says, smiling. He pulls Harry into a hug and the Boy Who Lived holds in his wince as Draco's body presses against his cut up stomach. Harry relaxes into the embrace, closing his eyes and reveling in Draco's masculine scent. His lips turn up in a slight smile before Harry remembers that he mustn't be growing attached to anyone knew and that Draco probably isn't gay anyway and who would ever like someone as worthless and pathetic and unlovable as him? He pulls away, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes realizing that he's already too far deep and will have to face leaving Dray as well.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Draco asks, holding Harry's hand to keep him in place.

"Nothing, Draco, I promise. Just… nervous and stuff," Harry replies, turning away from the boy. Obviously, Harry can't tell Draco his plans or the boy will just stop him and Harry can't have that happening. The Boy Who Lived turns to his bed and plops down, pulling the covers over him without even putting on him pajamas. With one glance at his clock Harry sees that it's almost midnight and Harry had stayed in the girls' toilets for quite some time. He hears Draco get into the bed on the other side of the room.

"Night, Harry," The blond says. Harry slightly smiles hearing his silky smooth voice wishing him a good night and then surprises even himself with what he says next.

"Hey, Dray? Could you… I mean, would you mind if… if you slept in my bed tonight? I mean, um, you don't have to, it's just that… once you stayed by me last night I didn't have any more nightmares and I haven't slept that good in a long time… You don't have to if you don't want to it's stupid but-" Harry gets cut off when he hears a voice right next to his bed.

"It's fine, Harry, it's okay. I rather enjoyed sleeping with you, you're very comfortable." Harry can almost hear the smirk on Malfoy's face. "Now, scoot over and let me in."

Harry scoots and turns to face Draco once the other boy is settled into bed. He snuggles into Draco's side, head resting on the boy's chest. Draco wraps an arm around Harry, pulling him close.

"Is this okay?" Harry asks, worried that Draco would be freaked out by Harry's closeness.

"It's perfect."

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please review!