Chapter 12
The travel back to town was silent for the most part.
It wasn't long before they hit the road and watched as Draco slowly fell asleep, Harry making sure his belt was tight so he wouldn't move too much and wake up.
The boy looked bad, it was obvious that he hadn't slept in days, or at least not in a place comfortable enough to rest properly; He took off his coat, but it still covered the arm where he had the tattoo, they called it a dark mark, they didn't understand how it was possible for it to move the way it did, unless it was the product of a quirk… or magic. .
He was pale, more so than could be considered healthy, but he seemed to be eating well, he was thin, but fit.
Or so they thought.
They saw Harry make a slow movement with his wand, and it was as if a fairy tale illusion vanished before his eyes; barely visible circles under his eyes turned into dark circles, his hair became a little longer and messier, his lips were cracked and dry, bite marks all around them, his skin was no longer just pale, it was like it was turning gray, his cheeks lost some volume and the shirt he was wearing suddenly seemed too big for him.
“I knew something was wrong,” they heard Harry whisper.
“What do you mean?” Hizashi asked.
“He was being very docile, it was too easy to talk to him” he saw them tilt their heads “if you're not one of his group of friends, it's never easy to talk, besides, I didn't expect him to react like that.”
“Harry,” Shouta said, the boy looked at him, “we need you to talk to us, we have done what we could with the little you give us, but this, he,” he motioned to the sleeping kid, “we don't know what to do from now on, I don't understand what is happening, we need you to explain to us what all this is, what happened.”
“I'll try, but not now, I need to talk to Malfoy about some things first.” he lowered his head and looked at his hands.
“Of course, don't worry, we'll give you both some time to settle in and clear things up,” Hizashi said, and the boy smiled.
They had not liked the platinum's actions at first, but after the two argued, his personality changed radically, as if he did a 180° turn.
Seeing him so… emaciated from one moment to the next was shocking, it was like seeing Harry again in that alley, but they were also like two sides of a coin; While one still had something to fight for, motivations to keep going, the other had lost everything and had nothing left.
It was depressing and their hearts hurt.
They were both on the balcony, one on each side, the light was off as well as the one in the room, the sun had set just over two hours ago so the only light that illuminated the place was from the moon.
Since it's a rural town, there were hardly any people on the streets, the hotel was close to the coast, he could feel the wind carrying with it the scent of the sea and everything felt so calm, in a strange way.
He looked at Malfoy (Should he still call him that? he already call him by his name, but he hasn't called him by his yet) from the corner of my eye, he was wearing baggy pants and a loose t-shirt, it was strange not seeing him well-dressed.
He also didn't think that one day he would see him devour the food, he refused to eat the muggle food at first, but after taking a bite, he immediately plunged his cutlery into the plate, and he doesn't think he's ever seen someone shove so much food into his mouth in one bite (except for Ron and the twins, of course) and he couldn't help but laugh.
He still looked bad, but not as bad as before, after eating and sleeping most of the afternoon (in Harry's bed, it should be noted) he looked much better, he was still pale, but the gray tone of his skin disappeared, his eyes were no longer red, and his hair was tangle-free (with the help of conditioner, magic, and Hizashi).
The other noticed his gaze and turned to look at him.
“What?” He said, not irritated, not exasperated or upset, just…asking.
“Nothing, I…” he thought for a moment, the truth is he didn't know what to say or ask, he wanted to know what happened while he was gone, but he didn't know where to start.
There were so many questions in his mind and he wasn't able to think of the first one, until he saw how Malfoy's body twitched, it was just a small spasm, and he brought his arm closer to his body; he watched him do it all day long, even in his sleep.
“Did you want it?” he asked softly, Malfoy frowned a little.
“What t…” another spasm, he looked at his arm, “The mark?” The other one nod “I… No, I didn't.”
“So… Why?” He played with his nails, he could feel them splintering.
“It's not like I have a choice.” he turned his forearm so they could both see it.
“Does it hurt?” He hit his forehead internally, it was obvious that it did.
“Now just a little” he scratched the skin over the mark, his nails drawing red lines “it hurt more when he made it.”
“How bad?” Well, now he wants to bang his head against the wall.
“A lot,” he said as he scratched it again. “It's not supposed to hurt any more than a normal tattoo does, but that's when they make it to you by explicit will.”
“And if it's not, it hurts more,” Harry finished. Malfoy nodded. “Why you? You said your father told you.”
“That's what I said, but it was more…” he thought a little “the dark lord needed someone to do something, I'm still not sure what, my father told him that I could do it, but they needed to know that I would really do it” this time he passed the fingertips, gently.
“They needed you to have the mark.”
“Yes,” he crossed his arms and pressed them against his body.
“Did you tell your father that you didn't want to do it?” The other looked at him in disbelief.
“I couldn't do that, if I did, he was going to be angry, and I have no idea what the dark lord would have done,” he said quickly.
One of the phrases he said when they were arguing came back to him.
“Did he ever hurt you?” Malfoy looked confused. “Your father.”
“No,” the answer was slow to come out, doubt spilling out of his voice, “he would never hurt me, normally he just looks at me with disappointment and stops talking to me, or he would ignore me outright, sometimes a blow on the hand with his cane when I touch something I shouldn't, but it hardly hurts, it's more like a hard push.”
“Before you said you were afraid” he squeezed his arms harder, “did he ever hurt you bad? Does he try to?”
The silence filled the atmosphere, only the whistling of the wind and the small night insects could be heard, Malfoy's face was blank, but his eyes showed everything he felt and the storm that was forming in his mind.
“Just once,” he whisper so softly that he almost missed it, “well, maybe more than once, but they were accidents, he would never hurt me on purpose.”
"What did he do?" He tried to stay relaxed.
Silence fell again, Harry waited patiently until he decided to speak, he saw him drop his weight to the side to lean on the railing.
“Crucio,” he finally said.
Harry felt his insides turn with horror. He tried not to grimace, but it didn't seem to work, as the other just curled up closer to himself and hid his face between his knees; Malfoy had been an idiot, a big one, but he never basically hurt anyone, at least not intentionally.
It was true that he did stupid things that were on the thin line of morality, but hearing him say that his father had used the curse on him more than once was like feeling a bucket of cold water fall on his head; He never liked Lucius, but he never believed him capable of doing that to his own son.
If he has to be honest with himself, he did see him as a rival, never as an enemy, he realized that it was not that the other was not aware of the consequences of his actions, but that he was hyperaware of they; He wondered how many of his actions were really his and how many were caused by fear.
He can despise others for not being pure blood, he was guided by: “if you are not with me, you are against me”, he made fun of others and was arrogant, but… They raised him that way, they taught him that this was okay, they instilled in him those. . . . . Thoughts since he was a child…
…he still is.
They both are.
“Draco,” he said as calmly as he could, “Draco, look at me.”
He saw him flinch, raising his head just enough to see him, but he pressed himself further against the railing.
“Why do you say it was an accident?” They looked into each other's eyes.
“He said it was an accident,” he said softly.
“Every time?” He could see how his eyes were shining.
“He would never do it on purpose,” he whispered as tears gathered in the corner of his eyes.
“Draco” he came a little closer, but he stopped when he saw him trying to make himself smaller in the corner.
“What?” His voice came out harsh.
“We both know it, we know too well that anyone can throw crucio, but using it is something that can only be done when you truly want to.” He saw the tears start to fall before he hid his face again.
“It had to be an accident,” he sobbed.
His body shook as more sobs followed the first, he heard him drown in his tears, his hands went up to his hair and pulled; He approached slowly and placed his hands on the other's, a muffled scream left his lips as he buried his head further between his knees trying to get away from his touch.
“I'm not going to hurt you,” he whispered.
He gently placed a hand on his back, felt him shiver, but did not move away from him; he put his other hand on his knee and slowly pulled him towards him.
He knelt down, pressed Draco against his body and hugged him carefully, drawing small circles on his back as more sobs were heard; He felt him turn around before wrapping his arms around his waist, causing him to fall back to the ground. He pressed his face against his stomach and felt his grip on his clothes so tight that he thought he would break them.
“It's going to be okay.” He stayed still for a few seconds, Harry feared he had said something wrong.
He looked uncomfortably into the distance until Draco sobbed again and began to cry freely, he felt the tears wet his clothes; Despite being muffled, he worried that someone else would hear and put a spell around them to block out the noise.
He held him the entire time, stroking his hair only made him cry harder; He didn't know what to feel at this moment, seeing him in this way, so vulnerable, it felt bad, like something he wasn't supposed to witness, so he didn't look at him, he looked to the horizon, but he never let go.
He could hear murmurs broken by crying and didn't understand their meaning until one sentence came out more clearly than the others and only made him hug him tighter.
I want my mom.