Unmasked

A/N: TRIGGER WARNING. Mentions and descriptions of a suicide attempt and self-harm. Please don't read if you think this may be a trigger for you. 

Potions rolled around bright and early the next day. The class sat chatting, Professor Slughorn having already given their lesson. Hermione emerged from the store cupboard; jars of ingredients clutched to her chest. She balanced them precariously as she set them down, then pushed some of them across the desk to Pansy.

The dark-haired girl took them, unscrewing the lid of the first one, wrinkling her nose. She sniffed it, then gagged. “What is this? And more importantly, how did he even get it in the first place.”

“Trust me,” Hermione grimaced. “You don’t want to know.”

Pansy nodded, unscrewing another jar. She brought out her scales while Hermione set the cauldron on the desk. She proceeded to chop the less-putrid-smelling ingredient, pushing each of into a pile beside her so she could chop them finer after. Glancing up, she saw Harry and Draco a few tables away, chatting while cutting their ingredients. She grinned. Draco seemed happier today, a small smile playing on his lips as he listened to Harry blather on about one thing or another. He nodded, looking down at his ingredients, and she returned her focus to Hermione beside her.

“What are you looking at, Pansy?”

She nodded her head in their direction. “The boys.”

“Which ones?”

“Harry and Draco.”

Hermione watched them momentarily, stirring the potion absentmindedly as Pansy added the first ingredient. At the sizzling of the cauldron she looked back at her partner. “They’re quite peculiar.”

“How do you figure? I’m not disagreeing… just want to know your reasons.”

“Well… their dynamic is just… weird. I mean, they have so much in common yet they’re just sort of becoming friends now.”

Pansy snorted. “Come on, Hermione. They aren’t ‘kinda’ friends. They’re friends. At the very least.”

The Gryffindor smirked, then looked back at the pair. “You think they like each other?”

“Do I,” she laughed. “If Draco isn’t gay, I will eat the sorting hat.”

“You think he’s gay?”

“Absolutely. Man, you should hear him when he’s in the common room.”

“That doesn’t mean he likes Harry—”

“’Saint Potter,’” she imitated, sneering. “’With his scar and his broomstick, everyone thinks he’s so wonderful.’ Or, ‘Pansy, you’ll never guess what Potter did today!’ Or, or ‘Perfect Potter! I’ll show him. Crabbe, Goyle, help me into this tree!” She chortled, head tipped back as Hermione watched her, bemused. “Yes. I definitely think he likes Harry. I’ll eat the sorting hat, Hermione. The sorting hat.”

The other girl chuckled. “If you say so.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “I know so. Do you think Harry likes him?”

She scrunched her brows. “I dunno. Hard to tell with Harry.”

Pansy raised a brow. “It is? He’s always seemed open about pretty much everything. I mean, like, he can’t hide his emotions well from what I’ve seen. You can always tel when he’s angry or upset.”

“You’ve been paying more attention to him than I thought.”

“I’m best friends with Draco. It’s in my job description.”

Laughter burst out of Hermione’s mouth before she slapped there to muffle the sound. She got a few puzzled looks, to which she blushed.  She turned back to Pansy. “Actually thinking about it… yeah. Harry might like him. He’s always payed extra attention to him. And Draco used to get under his skin in a way that no one else ever could. And now, with everything that’s going on… I don’t think that this is just his “saving people thing.” I think he genuinely cares, more than just ‘someone is in trouble and needs help.’ You know?”

Pansy nodded. “You can see it in his face.”

“And his actions.”

“Yep.”

Hermione stirred the potion again as Pansy added the putrid smelling slime. They both plugged their noses, as many others around the room were as well. “Do you think they’ll ever realize?”

Pansy seemed to think about this, knife paused as she stared at the unlikely pair across the room. “Eventually. I mean… I think they’ll both realize, but it’ll take something big to make them. And even then… will they ever admit it?”

Hermione nodded. “Fair. Harry will be in denial.”

“I think Draco will have a mini heart-attack when he does.”

Hermione cringed, then laughed. “Don’t say that, Pans!”

“What? It’s true!” She continued weighing their next ingredient. “I think they’d make a cute couple.”

“Hmm… me too.”

“I mean, they’re both good looking. But Draco’s a real softie, even if he’d never admit it. Once Harry discovered that—”

“Oh God.”

“Yep.”

Hermione chuckled as she stirred the cauldron, then checked the clock. “Say Pansy, what are you doing tonight?”

“Er…. Nothing, I don’t think. Why?”

“Do you want to come up to Gryffindor tower with me after dinner tonight?”

Pansy grinned at her. “I’d love to.”

*

Moonlight cast a soft glow over the Gryffindor common room that night, alongside the fire. Pansy and Hermione sat at one of the tables by the window, a book in front of Hermione, a copy of witch weekly laid haphazardly on the table across from her. Pansy was filing her nails, slumped in her chair as she chatted with Hermione. The Gryffindor smiled at her over her book then pointed to a passage in it, holding it out for the other girl to take.

In the middle of the room, Harry sat with Neville and Ginny, playing exploding snap. Ginny held a licorice wand between her teeth and laughed as she watched Harry’s card take Neville’s, who turned to her with a playful scowl. Most of the other students had gone to bed, with only a few individuals lingering in the corners, some dozing, some pouring over their books.

Ron jogged down the stairs, straightening his tie. “Alright, I’m off to do rounds!”

“See you later, mate,” Harry called.

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him, and Neville nodded.

“I’ll wait up for you,” called Hermione, with Pansy waving from behind her.

Ron grinned. “Alright. I’ll try not to take too long then.” He pushed through the portrait hole, heading to check the corridors in their direct area. He wouldn’t bother checking the dungeons tonight, not when Draco was also on duty.

Ron paced the corridors, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The air was musty and he had to keep clearing his throat, much to the portraits dismay. The higher he went into the castle, the more musty it became.Does no one ever come up here?  Shaking his head as he cleared his throat for the dozenth time, he decided to head up to the astronomy tower for a breath of fresh air. However, as he opened the door and started up the stairs, he was hit with a sudden pang of terror. Something’s wrong… The energy felt wrong, completely. It didn’t feel peaceful, as it normally would. Dread flooded through his body as he climbed higher, tiptoeing for no reason other than to not make noise. He squinted into the dimness as he rounded the final loop, almost screaming at the sight before him.

Draco was sitting on the railing, visibly shaking, a bloody knife discarded behind him on the floor. He was muttering to himself, and Ron edged closer to hear what he was saying. “You fucking coward,” he hissed. “Just fucking do it. Get it over with.” He raised his arm and Ron realized, horrified, that it was completely coated in fresh crimson, leaking onto the floor. Draco shook his head at himself, voice wavering. “Do it before he does.”

Ron sprinted forward as Draco shifted his weight further towards the edge, seizing him around the waist and hauling him to the dusty floor. “Draco, no! What are you thinking?”

“Let me go,” he growled, trying and failing to push Ron off. “Get off me!”

“No! I’m not letting you jump.”

“Please,” he wailed, thrashing. The struggle was useless. Ron had a secure hold on him and was dragging him down the stairs, apologizing as he went. “Ron! He’s gunna kill me anyways… Please let go.”

“No.”

“I can’t…” he cried, a sob tearing from his throat. “I can’t do this anymore!”

“Hang on.” Ron half dragged, half carried Draco back to Gryffindor tower, the latter quickly falling into a near hysterical state. Whether it was from pain or panic, Ron couldn’t tell. He just knew he couldn’t handle this on his own. He shouted the password, then kicked the door open.

“Wow, Ron that was—Oh my god! What happened?”

“Help,” Ron called into the room, dragging Draco through the portrait hole. “Please help me. He was trying to jump.” Pansy shrieked, running over with Hermione as Ron struggled to bring him into the room.  “Pansy, get Snape. ‘Mione, McGonagall. Now. Please.”

Harry jumped up from the floor, eyes wide in horror, and flew to where Ron was dropping Draco. “What happened? What’s wrong with him? OhMerlin, his arm!” He immediately dropped to his knees and pulled the sobbing boy into his arms as Ron explained to him, Neville, and Ginny what had happened. Draco’s heaving sobs wracked his small frame and Harry clung to him tightly. “Shh… shh… it’s okay. It’s okay… oh my God…” Harry rocked them slightly, praying that he could get Draco to calm down. Without thinking, he kissed his head fiercely, then placed a hand on the back of his head, fingers in his blond hair. “Its gunna be okay… I promise. Oh my God, Draco… please never do that again… Holy shit…” Draco shook his head against Harry’s chest, but if he was trying to speak, nothing coherent reached Harry’s ears. “Shh… just breathe… breathe… I’ve got you…I’ve got you…”

Sitting in the chair beside them, Ron only nodded, then rested his face in his hands. His mind was whirling, not fully able to comprehend what was happening. Ginny, on the other hand, had knelt beside Harry and Draco, wand drawn. She grasped Draco’s bloodied arm gently, attempting to pry it away from his body. Draco gasped, yanking out of her grasp, turning further into Harry.

“Draco,” she said sternly. “I need to heal your arm.”  He didn’t move, so she reached forwards and took hold of it again. He tried to pull away once more.

“Draco,” Harry whispered. “Please let Ginny see your arm. She’s wants to help.”

Ginny was finally able to look at his arm more closely and the sight made her stomach turn. It was a mangled mess. The flesh was angry and torn open in intersecting slashes, different colours covering the pale skin. But mostly red. The blood had stopped pouring from the wounds, but it hadn’t fully stopped yet. Neville appeared by her side with a wet cloth and gently tried to lift the blood from the cuts. As the cloth came away with more red each time, Draco hissed and Harry whispered to him, desperate to distract him and calm him down. His arm was shaking, but Ginny and Neville could still make out the old scars that laced his skin. Ginny sighed, setting her wand to work and knitting the wounds closed.

Hermione and Pansy ran through the portrait hole, panting, the two ashen-faced Professors behind them. Snape and McGonagall took in the sight before them. Ron sitting doubled-up in the armchair, face in his hands. Ginny and Neville kneeling on the floor with a bloody cloth. Draco cradled in Harry’s arms, shaking violently while the latter whispered to him, rubbing his back.

McGonagall cleared her throat, causing Ron to look up at her. “What happened?” she demanded.

Ron shook his head slowly. “I was doing my rounds when I found Draco sitting on the rail of the astronomy tower, with a bloody knife, trying to convince himself to jump before his father got to him first… he tried to fight me off but I was able to get him back here, and well…”

“I healed his arm, Professor,” said Ginny, and Neville held up the bloody cloth. “But it’s a mess… there’s so many self-harm scars…”

At a loss for words, McGonagall stayed just inside the doorway. Snape ventured forwards, crouching beside Draco, surveying the damage done to his arm. Then he stood, sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s had another relapse.”

“A relapse?” Hermione whispered.

Pansy stared at him, terror in her eyes. “Another relapse?”

Snape nodded solemnly. “Sadly, this is not the first time I have found him to be self-harming. It’s been a problem since fourth year. Miss Parkinson, has he said anything to you in private about this situation?”

Pansy bit her lip, then nodded. “He’s told me he was terrified that his Father and… You-Know-Who, would get to him.”

“That’s impossible while he’s in the castle. And he will not be going home at the end of term.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Draco croaked, voice thick with tears. “He’ll find a way to me. He always does.”

“He can’t get to you in Hogwarts, Draco,” McGonagall said softly.

“What happens at the end of term? And what happens, now that the… now that He is helping?” His breathing shuddered and Harry leaned into his ear, whispering.

“But he’s not after you. He wants Harry. He wants control,” said Snape.

Harry looked up from Draco to Snape. “Lucius is in his inner circle, though, Professor. And I don’t think he’s below anything Lucius has been doing to Draco.”

“Perhaps so,” McGonagall replied. “But why would he waste his time helping Lucius?”

“Because I’ve disobeyed.”

All eyes turned to the trembling blond. Harry pulled back slightly, tilted his chin up with a finger. “What do you mean you’ve disobeyed, Draco?”

Draco glanced down at his left arm, which was still in Ginny’s grasp. She followed his eyes, brows furrowed. Then her eyes widened, full of comprehension. “The colour I saw wasn’t just bruises…” Draco shook his head, looking away. “You took the mark.”

Draco nodded, fresh tears leaking silently down his face. Everyone, with the exception of Snape, stared in shock. Harry took the slashed arm from Ginny, staring at the remnants of the evil symbol. “You didn’t want to take it, did you? That’s why you’ve been cutting it.” Draco nodded, not able to meet his gaze. “Is that the only reason?” He shook his head slowly, letting out a shuddering breath. Harry brushed some hair out of Draco’s face. “Look at me. Please.” Slowly, stormy grey eyes met green. “Why now were you going to try to… to jump?”

“What’s the point, Harry? They’ll get to me, somehow. You don’t know what he’s capable of… I can’t take it anymore! I can’t do what’s been asked of me. I can’t let Death Eaters into the castle! I can’t kill… so why not kill myself instead? It’s better for everyone that way,” he ranted, heaving for a breath. Even Harry’s comforting touch couldn’t calm him, and his voice continued to race steadily faster.  “My parents, especially Father, won’t be ashamed that I’ve disobeyed or failed, the rest of the school won’t have to deal with me, He won’t get to punish and torture me, and I won’t have to deal with this constant war inside my head! I’m not good for anything else, other than internalizing my pain and fear for years at a time and then fucking self-destructing, or—or hurting other people and hiding behind some blasted mask because I’m not allowed to be anyone other than the shadow of my deadbeat, abusive, Death-Eater father! I can’t be on the good side, even though I want to be! I couldn’t join the DA last year, or speak my mind about what goes on at home, or fight with you guys on the light side because of the consequences! I have to shut myself in my room all the time, avoid speaking or looking at my Father, and pretend like everything that’s gone on around me for so long is normal and okay and that it doesn’t hurt but it does. It all hurts so bad and my only out is to jump off of that tower and to slit my wrists open because my life, the one that I’m currently living in, is just plain hell and I can’t escape it! I don’t want to be on the bad side, and torture, and kill and stand by as everyone gets hurt when I’m going to be at fault, and deserve it anyways! I can’t live with myself, Harry! It just, it—it hurts and it never stops and I don’t know what to do anymore! Just knowing that he’s after me… and that at any point I could just suffer more… the fear and the self-hatred… He’s going to find me… they both will, and I’m going to pay for everything that I have caused, and—and—andyoudon’tunderstand!”

Harry pulled him back to his chest, where the Slytherin heaved for breath, overwhelmed and panicking. “Shh… shh… breathe… it’s gunna be okay. I promise…”

“It’s not, Harry! I’m not okay,” he sobbed, the sound muffled against the fabric of Harry’s shirt.

Harry rubbed Draco’s back, oblivious to the stares he was getting from the others. His mind was reeling, trying to take in everything the other boy had just said. He had not expected the outburst. Even in some of their previous conversations, Draco had never been this open… this emotional, this… vulnerable. “I know… I know you’re not okay… But we’re gunna find a way out of this. I swear, I won’t give up until your safe.” The blond’s breathing shuddered, and Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s hair. “I’ve got you…”

Faintly, Draco’s voice was heard mumbling to Harry. “For years… it’s been just me… I’ve been all alone through all of this… and I’ve never been the most trusting person because at home, the people I’m supposed to trust… I can’t. But Harry…”

“Yes?”

“I need help…”

“I’m right here, Draco,” Harry whispered. “I’m right here. Always. I mean it.”

“Me, too!” Pansy piped up.

“And Ron and I,” Hermione said.

“There’s a lot of us who’ve changed our minds about you,” said Neville. “Especially now that we are learning more of the truth.”

“It’s true,” Ginny admitted. “You’ve got a lot of people on your side. And don’t forget your mate Blaise hexing those people who were after you the other night.”

Draco nodded against Harry’s chest. “Thank you,” he mumbled hoarsely. “Thank all of you. I’m just… terrified. And I don’t want any of you to get hurt, too.”

McGonagall cleared her throat. “As this is a potentially dangerous situation for the group of you, especially Draco, the Ministry will be contacted again. If what you say is true, and he may find a way to get to you and your friends here, then we may have to relocate you for the time being.”

“Excuse me, Professor,” Ron interjected. “What do you mean, ‘relocate us?’”

She frowned. “Well, as Harry pointed out, we have a couple dangerous wizards after Mister Malfoy. If Hogwarts would not be safe for you, then we may have to take you somewhere else, temporarily. If the ministry is able to catch Lucius, everything should be alright. However, if that is not the case, and he evades capture, and has other means of reaching you, which seems likely, then an alternate place would be the safest bet.”

“Isn’t Hogwarts safe though, Professor?” Pansy asked.

She shook her head. “Not from someone like Lucius, who knows the ins and outs of the place. Also, we cannot change the way the school is being run because of this, however, if we can remove Draco from the situation, and have him somewhere where Lucius will not find him until he is caught, that will be the safest course of action. Now, do any of you have muggle relatives nearby? If you stay among wizards, then he will most likely be able to find out. Harry? Hermione?”

Harry grimaced. “Well, there’s the Dursleys… but they were miserable enough with just me… and with my history…”

“Oh yes, Harry, I’m sorry, dear. Hermione, how about you?”

“Well, my parents live in muggle London… but wouldn’t Lucius still e able to track us locally with the Trace? We aren’t of age yet.”

“She’s right, Minerva,” Snape stated. “England… even Britain will not be safe from the Dark Lord and Lucius, because they can be traced anywhere within its limits. And take my word… Lucius, although he may not seem like it, is a dangerous man. If he as determined as Draco says he is, and as furious for his name being tarnished, then we must not be able to be tracked.”

“Professors,” Hermione interjected, biting her lip. “I have muggle family members elsewhere that I’ sure could help us out if we asked…”

“And where are they?” Professor McGonagall asked, eyes wide.

“Canada.”

“Canada? Really? Well, can you get in contact with them? I hope it does not come to it but again, if Lucius evades the ministry and threatens again, then we will have to take action.”

Hermione nodded. “Let me owl my parents. I’m sure they can call my aunt and uncle and get back to me quickly.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger.”

“Harry, is Hedwig still upstairs from earlier?”

He nodded, still holding Draco against him, who seemed to be falling asleep. “Should be.”

“Can I send Mum and Dad a letter with her?”

“Of course, ‘Mione.” Hermione jogged up the stairs to the boy’s dorm, and the squeak of the door and commotion from the inside let them know she’d woken up Seamus and Dean. Harry looked back down at Draco, pulled his fingers through the boy’s blond hair, then looked up at his Professors. They raised their eyebrows at him and he hugged Draco tighter, mouthing, ‘He’s falling asleep.’

McGonagall smiled, and Snape nodded. The old witch stared at the pair. “Will he be okay with you?”

Before Harry could answer, however, both Pansy and Ron answered for him. “Absolutely.”