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Sectumsempra by Ayume Matsumoto
Chapter 1 : Sectumsempra
 
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A blonde haired boy stood in the empty boy’s bathroom, shoulders shaking as he bent over one of the dusty, cracked sinks. No-one ever used these bathrooms. Barely any of the students even knew they existed. Hidden away down one of the many unused corridors of Hogwarts. The perfect place to go to if you wanted to be alone, and Draco Malfoy wanted to be alone. The tears streaming down his pale and mouse-like face added to the soft splashing sound of a tap which dripped a few sinks along. Wiping them away aggressively he briefly looked up at himself in the scratched mirror above the sink. He looked a wreck. His fringe, slightly damp from where he had wiped his tears, stuck out at the edges. His usually perfectly gelled-back hair was beginning to loosen itself too. He ran both hands violently through it, forcing the hair to stick out in all directions, making him vaguely resemble a blonde version of Potter. A tear managed to force itself once more in the corner of his eye, and it fell as if in slow motion down his cheek. His hand grasped tightly around the tap and he turned it harshly. Water began to flood out of it, breaking through the silence of the bathroom. Blonde hair underneath it, his narrow, long fingers began to rub furiously away at the gel until it was no more. He splashed his face a few times with the cool, refreshing water, before turning the tap off.

He hated the person he had become. He was scared, scared of what would happen if he defied the Dark Lord. Scared at what his parents would think if they knew the way he felt. Looking back into the mirror he couldn’t help but let out a soft, gentle cry. He sniffed, wiping his hand once more across his face. Hair now dripping around his shoulders, straggled and messy. Droplets of water rolled down his graceful neck and he could feel them, cold and sticky, running under the collar of his un-ironed school shirt and down the front of his chest.


It was only then, as he blubbered over his own reflection that Draco noticed the small, dark shadow in the corner of the mirror. The shadow of a person. He swung around, shock and anger filling up inside him at the thought that someone had seen him in such a state. To his worst fears, Potter stepped out of the shadow of the doorframe, confused expression on his face. Draco gulped, not sure what to do, his mind currently blank. Tears continuing to roll silently down his cheeks. Potter took a step closer, a flicker of what looked like genuine concern flashing across his face.


“Draco?”


Potter’s voice, although shaking, cut the air ever so quietly. Almost a whisper with a touch of what most certainly sounded like concern. The pale, wet, blonde-haired boy did not trust it. Harry Potter had always turned away his attempts at friendship. Draco could still remember vividly their first meeting that fateful day in front of the Great Hall. The rejection had cost him his pride. It was part of the reason he had become the person he was today. The person he hated. Everything was Potter’s fault. He hated Potter just as much as he hated himself.


As Potter stood there, across the bathroom, jet black hair looking like it hadn’t seen a comb in years, trademark circular glasses perched on his nose. Draco felt some form of gratitude towards the boy. As if he’d rather have Potter here than anyone else. He had spent much time attempting to seek the approval of Potter, but Potter, too caught up in himself, had always pushed him further and further away. Until they stood on completely opposite sides. And now he stood here, hair dripping, tears falling and his shirt getting uncomfortably damper by the second. Potter stood opposite, having observed pretty much every moment of Draco’s pain.


“Come to sneer have you, Potter?! Have a laugh at Draco Malfoy?” The blonde-haired boy drew himself up to the best of his abilities in an attempt to regain his image, snarling to defend himself against the expected ray of insults from Potter. But no insults came. Potter remained silent for a second or two longer. Only the drip, drip, drip of the tap breaking through the silence at a consistent pace.


“Draco…I…What’s wrong? I…I’ve never seen you like this before.” The tall, black-haired boy began to make small steps towards Draco. Not in an intimidating manner, more of a soft and calming manner. In fact, everything about the boy seemed to be soft now. His startling green eyes gazed over to Draco, softly. Each footstep he took sounded soft on the wet floor. Draco hadn’t seen someone quite so concerned about him since, well, since forever. Even his own mother, clearly a very overprotective mother, had never shown such an honest and genuine concern over Draco’s wellbeing than Potter was showing him right now with his body language.


Something inside Draco broke. Unable to stop himself he slid to the cold, wet floor where he curled himself into a ball, hugging his knees and sobbing uncontrollably. Something in Harry seemed to change too as he ran the last few steps towards Draco, falling to his knees and placing a hand over the sobbing boy’s hand.


“Please tell me what is wrong, Draco. I want to help.” Harry muttered, the sight of Draco Malfoy in such a state bringing tears to his eyes.


The blonde haired boy looked up, eyes red and puffy, but sharp. “Since when have you ever cared about what’s wrong in my life? Why would you? All you ever care about is what is wrong in your life.” The words were full of bitterness and shot through Harry like arrows; stinging and burning inside him.


Harry Potter leant in closer, so close that Draco could count each of his individual eyelashes behind those god-damn ugly glasses. Holding his breath, Draco could foresee what was coming. He didn’t know how he could foresee it, but he just knew what was about to happen. His body could sense it. It was the most painful second of silence he had ever experienced. Part of him wanted to grab hold of Potter and tear him limb from limb, the other part wanted to grab hold of him and pull him in closer, run his pale hands down the other’s skinny arms and take in the taste of his lips.


“Draco, I…” Harry didn’t get to finish his sentence as Draco had chosen the second option and was now forcibly kissing his lips. Harry’s glasses had slipped down his nose with the sudden shock. After a few moments in which Harry lay still in Draco’s arms, unsure of what was going on or of what he should do, he attempted to return the kiss, awkwardly. Draco could sense the awkwardness and it spurred him on even more. It clearly wasn’t Harry’s first kiss, yet there was still a teenage awkwardness in it. It was, however, Draco’s first kiss. Yet, by the noises bubbling up through Harry’s throat, Draco was a born natural at it.


If only someone were to walk in on the two boys who were knelt so closely together, surrounded by puddles of water from the leaking taps. Ronald Weasley or perhaps a fellow Slytherin student. Severus Snape even. A knot tightened inside Draco’s stomach at the thought of the greasy-haired Slytherin professor. He had been attempting to avoid the Professor ever since the beginning of term, yet it wasn’t proving successful. It was as if Snape had a piece of paper which told him Draco’s exact movements.


Harry let go of Draco’s lips, letting his eyes open slowly. Savouring the moment which had just passed. He found himself looking directly into the cool blue eyes of the other boy. There was an expression in the blue eyes. It took Harry a moment to recognise it as regret. Draco’s eyes were puffy, but the tears had dried. He seemed to be on the verge of speaking yet nothing came out. As if he was debating whether to speak or stay silent. Harry ran his hand down Draco’s arm, stopping when he reached the other’s hand. He wrapped his fingers around it and gave it a small squeeze.


“Draco. You can trust me. Tell me what’s upsetting you, please.” He begged, glasses still askew on his nose.

Draco let out a sigh before clearing his throat. “I am one of them now.” He turned his arm around and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a blacker-than-black tattoo-like mark of a snake protruding from the mouth of a skull. The dark mark. Harry hesitated for a moment, pulling away from Draco ever so slightly. “You have to understand, Harry. I had no choice. The dark lord, he uses my home as a base. He could kill them all, Mother and Father, if I don’t do as he says.” A fresh tear rolled down from Draco’s blue eyes. “He wants me…” Draco gulped and paused for a brief second, before repeating his last words. “He wants me to kill…” But the rest of his words were lost as the room was spinning and Harry came crashing back down to reality.


He must have blacked out. Yet he was still in the bathroom. Gradually everything in the room became more focused. He could make out the sinks and the rows of toilets. Something felt wet against the hem of his trousers. He was crouched against a wall; the floor around him was damp with water. His wand was in his hand. His stomach lurched as he remembered why he was here. He cautiously looked across the floor until his eyes met with the disturbing scene. Draco Malfoy lay broken on the floor, the damp floor around him dyed red with his blood, his eyes wide with pain. Harry wanted to scream for help, but no sound came out. At that moment a bat-like figure swooped in through the door, its eyes met Harry’s and for the first time in his life Harry Potter felt a rush of relief to see the Potions master, Professor Snape.
 



 




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