Unmasked

Wednesday morning was no different than many of the others. The students dressed for classes, packed their bags full of books and parchment and met their friends for breakfast in the Great Hall. For Harry, Ron, and Hermione, this meant sitting at the Gryffindor table, loading eggs and toast onto their plates and tucking in just before Draco and Pansy arrived. The blond Slytherin sat with Harry and Ron, while Pansy sat with Hermione. Pansy scooped eggs onto her plate as well, while Draco reached for a blueberry muffin.

Harry turned to Pansy. “Ready to fail at bird-conjuring again?”

She snorted. “Meh, either way, I’ll still beat you at it.”

“Hey! I’ll conjure three this time!”

Draco picked at his muffin, singing under his breath, “I doubt that…” Harry swatted him while everyone laughed. Draco turned to him and grinned. Harry’s heart fluttered and he returned the gesture, dropping his gaze back to his plate.

Hermione cleared her throat. “Do you all want to meet in the library this afternoon during the free period to do some work?”

Ron nodded. “Sounds good, I have an essay to work on.”

“Me too,” said Pansy.

Draco nodded, half-finished his muffin. “Sure. I could browse around a little for a new books, too.”

“God,” Harry huffed. “You sound like Hermione!”

“Hey!” The two looked at each other. Draco scowled and Hermione stuck out her tongue. He turned back to Harry. “There’s nothing wrong with liking to read. What else do you think I do at home with no one there but my parents?”

Harry glared at Hermione, who smirked. “Fine. I guess I have work to do, too. DADA essay, Ron?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. We can work on it together. Have you chosen yours yet?”

“No… everyone already has though. I’m running out of options.”

Harry smirked. “I think I have just the one.”

*

That afternoon the library was bustling with busy students. Most of the tables were packed, books and parchment stacked so high no one could see the person across from them. Although Madam Pince tried her hardest, she couldn’t get the level of quiet to where she wanted it to be—it just wasn’t going to happen. In the middle of the stacks of books and rows of tables laid the belongings of the unlikely group.

Harry, Ron, and Pansy sat at the table, parchment spread flat and books open on the wood. Hermione stood behind them, flipping through the pages of a book. One page roared at her and she flinched, however the next one only twittered, and she smiled. Draco was down an aisle to the left of the table, his finger tracing the spines of the books with curiosity. He fingered one with red, leather binding and pulled it off the shelf, studying the gold script.

Harry and Ron kept bickering over Ron’s essay. Harry continually offered him a spell he thought would be cool, but Ron insisted Harry was being a prat and the spell was made up. After a few minutes, Pansy straightened from her position hunched over her parchment and raised her eyebrows. “Do you two ever shut up?”

Ron didn’t even look up. “No.”

Pansy glanced at Harry, who shrugged. She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I wish there was a spell for that some days. What are you two even arguing over?”

“Nothing important,” said Ron.

“Then tell me,” she insisted.

“Fine. I need a spell no one else is using for my essay and Harry suggested this one he found in his textbook. But I can’t find any information in it anywhere. I think it’s made up.”

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the book on the table. “Harry, why are there spells in your potions book?”

“There’s n—”

Pansy grabbed the book from Harry, flipped it towards her, and scanned the pages. Her mouth fell open. “I’ve never even heard of this before… Sectumsempra. For enemies… What does that even mean?”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to know,” said Ron. “And you’re sure it’s not hidden or written somewhere else, Harry? What it does?”

“I’m positive.” He took the book back from Pansy and skimmed through the pages with his thumb. “It’s not in here.”

“Maybe Hermione knows,” Pansy suggested.

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry grumbled. “But she’s not the biggest fan of this book.”

The Slytherin shrugged. “Oh well. Hermione!”

Hermione shrieked as a roar came out of her book. She snapped it shut, returned it to the shelf and came back to the table. “Yeah?”

She gestured to Harry’s book. “Do you know what this spell does?”

Hermione took it from Harry and read it aloud as Pansy had. She shook her head, looking up at them. “Sectumsempra? No… It might not even be real. Ron said he couldn’t find anything on it, right? Did I hear that correctly?”

Ron nodded and smacked Harry with his roll of parchment. “Then why would you suggest that I write my paper on it, mate? It’s not even real!”

“It is real.” Draco stood at the table now, the red leather book gripped to his chest.

They all looked up at him. Ron blinked furiously. “It is? Maybe my essay isn’t a failure after all.”

Harry laughed. “See, I told you. What does it do, Draco?”

Draco looked down. “Trust me. You don’t want to know.”

Ron threw up his hands. “I do! For my paper.”

“You won’t find anything credible.”

“Why not?” Harry asked.

“Because someone did make it up. And I wish I knew who.”

“Why?”

“Because my father has used it on me…”

All eyes were on the blond, eyes scanning his face and closed off body language. He stared at the carpet. Hermione swallowed thickly. “But it says, ‘For enemies.’”

Draco still didn’t look up. “So?”

Harry held his muscles tight in his chest as a pang went through him. “What did it do to you, Draco…?”

Draco sighed, setting his book on the table. He walked around to Harry. “Stand up. I’ll show you without actually doing it.” He took a deep breath. “Basically, it’s dark magic that acts as a blade. The wounds are hard to heal, and it leaves you very bloody.” Draco pulled his wand from his pants pocket and placed the tip gently on Harry’s chest. “Say it got you here, and dragged right like this… all the way to here. Then again lower, or higher, like this… All over you in whatever motion they moved their wands… and you can do nothing but scream and pray that you either die or pass out.”

Harry looked up at him, mouth slightly open. “He did that to you?”

Draco gulped. “Do you want to see what he did? In case you don’t get it?”

Harry spluttered. “Only if-if you’re c-comfortable showing us…”

Draco looked at Ron, Pansy, and Hermione. “Can you guys stand here so no one else can see me?”

The three obliged and joined Harry around Draco. He pushed his robes and tie away from his chest, then unbuttoned his dress shirt. He turned his head away as the group gasped under their breath. Thin, silvery scars laced his chest and stomach. Harry reached out gingerly and traced a piece of one of the scars. When he withdrew his hand, Draco did the buttons back up wordlessly, then turned and went to sit in his chair.

The four of them watched as he did so, each of them in shock at the cruelty of Lucius Malfoy. Harry’s eyes watered as he glared down at his potions book.

Ron coughed, crumpling his parchment. He looked around at the group of them. “I’ll find another spell.”

*

Harry woke in the middle of the night with a start. Though he didn’t have a nightmare, his heart was pounding in his chest. He peered through his curtains only to see four other drawn pairs. He sat back and pulled out the map, whispering the incantation, and lighting his wand. He searched the corridors for a single name. Corridors, bathrooms, classrooms… and the name finally appeared. Draco Malfoy seemed to be wandering the corridors, but he was moving incredibly fast. He must be running… Why is he running? When Harry took a closer look at the area, he discovered that he was heading towards the same empty classroom that Harry had found him in before. Harry jumped out of bed, threw on his shoes, then disappeared under the cloak and out the door.

He sprinted through the corridors, barely bothering to avoid the ghosts or check for Peeves. He slowed as he approached the classroom, and as he peered through the door window saw Draco’s blond head bowed. He was sitting in the saw spot as before, mostly hidden from view. Harry opened the door, stepping inside and closing it softly again. He could hear the other boy now. He was hyperventilating, clutching at his chest and choking on his own, muttered words. Harry immediately knew that the boy had felt it coming and ran from his dorm, and was almost 100% sure it was about the scars he’d revealed earlier that same day.

“Draco?” Harry called quietly, approaching the shaking boy.

Draco curled further into himself. The shaking worsened. “No,” he gasped. “No!”

Harry rushes over, kneeling in front of the blond. “Draco, it’s Harry.”

“Please, don’t!”

“Draco,” Harry said again. He continued to call his name as he desperately tried to pry the boy’s hand from his chest. When he finally succeeded, he kept both of Draco’s hands in one of his own. He cupped Draco’s cheek with his other hand. “Draco… It’s Harry. I’m not here to hurt you. Breathe… You’re safe… He’s not here. I promise. I promise you’re safe. You’re safe.”

Draco shudders, hauling in a deep breath.

Harry stroked Draco’s cheekbone with his thumb. “It’s not real, Draco… It’s not happening right now… You’re safe. You’re safe…”

Draco’s eyes flutter open finally and come into focus. Harry brushes blond hair out of his eyes, along with a few tears that has escaped. Draco doesn’t even speak when his eyes finally open fully. They’re watery and he’s fighting the emotions in his throat.

Harry drops Draco’s hands and brings both of his up to the boy’s face. “It’s only me… you’re safe with me…”

Draco breaks down in harsh sobs. Harry pulls him into his arms and Draco clings to him. “It’s scary, I know,” he says, rubbing Draco’s back. “I know, Draco. I’ve got you now… I’m right here…”

Harry’s heart clenches at the sound of Draco’s broken sobs. He can feel him shaking violently against his chest… Yet there’s nothing Harry can do for him. He can’t erase the pain of the past. He continues to rub the Slytherin’s back with one hand, other hand smoothing his blond hair. He whispers apologies in his ear, and tells him that he’s safe now. He can’t tell if Draco knows that or not, but he’s holding onto Harry as though he’s all he has, so the Gryffindor assumes that’s enough. For now at least.

As the sobs quieted Harry continued to hold Draco tight, still rubbing his back. He leaned his head against the other boy’s. The remnants of the sobs still shook his body, and he choked on them as he did the others as they ripped from his throat. “Shh,” Harry whispered, brushing blond locks out of silver eyes. “Shh… it’s okay now… you’ll be okay… I won’t let him hurt you, okay?” Draco whimpered as another shudder went through him. “I’ve got you, Draco… I’m right here…”

“Please don’t leave,” came Draco’s wavering voice. “Not right now, Harry, please… I need you…”

Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair. “Hey… I’m not leaving… I’m not going anywhere okay? I’m right here…”

Draco nodded against him and Harry squeezed him tight.

Harry began to wonder why this was happening. Why it was even possible at all. Mere weeks ago they had been rivals… and now Harry was holding Draco in his arms while he broke down in tears after a panic attack. Although they were now friends, Harry began to question even that. Their situation seemed very intimate, although, neither boy seemed to mind that. Harry began to wonder if Draco had ever been held at all… Surely his mother couldn’t with his father around, but when he was younger, maybe? Somehow he felt the answer was still no.

Harry lowered them into a laying position. Draco was still trembling against Harry’s side as he held him, the aftermath, Harry knew, of some panic attacks. Draco soon fell asleep in Harry’s embrace, however, Harry himself never fell back to sleep. His brain was too busy pondering what would happen next, and where this relationship was going.

Surely those pangs he had felt were normal, right? And the way he felt when Draco smiled at him? The way his heart broke while he’d just held him as he cried and completely broke? Was that all normal?

Surely.