Drarry - Scars
Everyone has scars. They are a mark, a mark of our past. Some are small, insignificant scratches. Others are big, unforgettable scars that were made purposely. Many were forced to have scars. But not this one. He wanted them. He needed them. So he could remind himself of what he had done. What he had become. It’s scary to think that someone would want to feel the pain, the sensation of blood running down your body. But he did. It was a necessity, a drug, an addiction. He was forced against his will to be his servant, his spy, his tool. He was tired of being pushed around, never having the choice to make his own decisions, never being able to say his opinions, thoughts, ideas. It killed him from inside. He didn’t ask for this, didn’t want it. What he wanted was to rebel. So he decided that if he was going to die, he would die against the dark side.
Only one problem was on his mind now.
Harry Potter.
The way his lips quirked up as he smiled with his friends. How his untamable hair flowed whilst running. The outline of his jaw is visible when in concentration. Pink lips pouted when Granger didn’t agree with him. And let’s not forget the emerald orbs. The slytherin could look at them for hours and find a different shade each time.
Of course he had to be extremely careful and not be caught. God only knows what his father would do if he found out that the Malfoy heir was gay. Only a few people knew about this and he was keeping it that way. He didn’t want people to start nosing about his private life, thank you very much.
Back to the point. Draco Malfoy had his flaws. Everyone had their flaws and most people understood them. But no-one understood him. They all thought he was just a snobby, rich-prick not used to getting what he wanted. That was a lie. It was all a cover up. The slytherin prince was a broken little boy who got tortured at home and teased at school. Pushed around by his parents and the one and only Dark Lord.
Usually he was left alone in his own thoughts but a very special brunette had been following his every move for the last few days. He was probably suspicious of the lack of attention. He would have had at least two fights with the gryffindor but no move was done. It wasn’t the blond’s intention to be the Chosen One’s enemy. His father had raised him one way, and that way only. To believe that blood purity was the most important thing in life. He didn’t understand emotions nor feelings as he was taught to hide them from everyone, including himself.
So when he was finally alone in the school's bathroom, he broke down. He had not only failed once again to indirectly kill the headmaster but had put a fellow student at risk.