We sometimes think we want to disappear, when all we really want is to be found - unknown

***

Red drops fell on the ground. A stabbing pain pulled through my hand.

I had expected that hitting the wall would made me feel something. Pain, disappointment, hate. But except from the throbbing pain I did not feel a single thing.

The door cracked open. 'Draco?' I heard a voice calling my name but I could not see who it was. My eyes were focused on the blood percolated through my freshly made wound. 'What have you done, Draco?' I heard the voice asking again and I recognised that it belonged to Harry. 'Are you okay?'

'N-No,' I said. 'No, I am n-not okay.'

'Why did you do this?' the Boy Who Lived asked me softly, but I did not respond at all. 'Come on,' he mumbled. 'You have to come to the bathroom with me, can you do that?'

There was a tone in his voice that made my body react without letting my mind think twice. He sounded soft, caring. I craved attention, any attention would do it.

'Good,' he said happily after my body had hoisted itself up. 'I will talk you through this, okay? Unless of course you want me to shut up, that is fine as well.'

'No,' I spoke with a crack in my voice. 'Talk to me. I like your voice.'

A small smirk creeped upon the face of the boy in front of me. 'You do?' he wondered. 'I can only imagine why.'

He took my good hand and led me out of the bedroom. The white hallway felt colder then before. I heard some laughter, some tears. This place was everything all in once, all the emotions you could feel.

'We are almost there, are you still doing okay?' Potter asked me. Green found steel-blue, and when that happened I nodded to the boy in front of me. 'I am glad to hear that.'

We walked into the empty, even colder bathroom. The first thing Harry did was turning on the tap, which made me shiver. 'You are going to be okay,' he said, reminding me of something I had said not that long ago to Lucia. 'You are safe here.'

There were no mirrors in here so I could not see how I looked like. My eyes were burning from all the tears that had escaped, my hair was a mess since I had pulled at it pretty hard and my clothes were soaked with my own, hot, red blood.

'I suggest that you should first hold your hand underneath the cold water, does that sound good to you?'

I nodded once more before Harry took my wounded hand gently with his soft ones. When my skin came in touch with the cold water my body automatically shuddered. 'Shh,' Harry whispered softly while making sure all the blood got washed down by the water. He then gently started to massage the parts of my hand that were not bloody.

His sudden act of gentleness surprised me, but when my eyes tried to find his I saw him looking to my hand. His eyes refused to look into mine.

'Does it hurt?' the raven-haired boy asked, still not looking up from our hands. 'A little,' I admitted with my own voice again, not with a broken one.

'Then why did you do it?'

'To feel,' I admitted feeling a little ashamed. 'To feel?' Potter asked surprised. 'Why would you not feel otherwise?'

'It was to much for me, Lucia does not deserve what she has been trough. Men are horrible.'

'You do realise you are a man yourself?'

I smiled, it was not a wide smile. But still, any smile is better then none. 'Of course I do,' my voice reacted. 'It is just not fair.'

'Life is not fair,' the other boy said finally letting go of my hand. 'I will wrap you hand up in a bandage and then you will be good to go.'

'Why are you doing this?' I wondered out loud. 'I mean, you hate me.'

'I do not hate you,' the other boy denied. 'I just do not like you, but after what you did this morning for Lucia, I do not know, if you can be gentle to a person who needs it very badly there should be someone out there do to the same for you, you know.'

'Is there someone out there for you as well? I mean, you have been here a little longer then I have so you must be friends with the others,' I pointed out, knowing that Harry had not opened himself up to anyone. 'Not exactly,' he mumbled just loud enough for me to hear. 'I have not really spoken to the others.'

'Oh?' I tried to sound surprised, and failed. 'Why not? I think they are nice, on their own crazy way of course.'

'Says the boy who just pushed a hole into a brick made wall. I believe you are just as crazy as they are,' Harry pointed out after he had grabbed a small First Aid box. He opened it and took some bandage out of it to carefully wrap around my knuckle.

'I never said that I am not crazy, because, well I obviously am.'

'They do not understand me,' Harry tried to explain. 'It is so weird to be in a room with people who have no idea what I have been trough. They do not know the fight I have fought, they do not see me as some sort of celebrity. For them I am just another crazy person with crazy mental health issues who cannot take care of himself. They do not know what kind of demons I am facing every single day.'

'No one does,' was all I said. 'I cannot see you demons and you cannot see mine. They are hiding inside our heads. I think you just feel lost after all those years in which people tried to get your attention because you were a hero. In here you are not a hero, in here you are just like them. Maybe you miss that attention, maybe you miss it to be a hero. That is possible you know, it is not weird at all.'

My words seemed to upset him. The raven-haired boy let my hand go and left. Just like that. Without saying another word to me. This made me feel even shittier, if that was even possible. Even though I felt guilty I did not intend to follow the boy, knowing that there really was no thing I could say to him right know. A sorry sounded so weak in my ears.

I chased away the one person willing to help me, again. Maybe that was the only thing I was honestly good at. Hurting others and myself.