Dedicated to BrokenAngxl (this is the person who requested this oneshot, they did NOT send me the DM below, they have nothing to do with it, I thought I should clarify to make sure everyone knew they have nothing to do with the paragraph below)

(this was originally titled "This is Home" because that was the song prompt, but i liked this one more)

also (tw for rape and me yelling at people) I can't believe I have to say this but I do not take prompts about rape?? Especially not H/D raping the other and the other falling in love with them after?? Yes I'm publicly kinkshaming you??? I wrote an entire story about Draco and Harry being a sociopathic/psychopathic duo and burning down the world and killing each other and I couldn't even make them hurt kids?? What in the world makes you think I would have them rape each other??? and then try to jUSTIFY IT AND MOVE ON AND HAVE THEM FALL IN LOVE ANYWAYS??? I BEG YOUR FUCKING  P A R D O N?? you know I don't give usernames but I know you're reading this and I didn't respond to your DM bc this is me publicly kinkshaming you for that please nobody EVER send me justified rape prompts? like, even rape as a backstory is thin fucking ice and it's gonna have to really play into the plot if I'm gonna put it there. i almost threw up reading what you asked me to write. the graphic detail, the attempted justification, the AGE DIFFERENCE aspect, the moving on from it without explanation, the fact that you asked me to write the rape in detail????? please get away from me?? unfollow? don't ever dm me again? disgusting.

I'm horrified and appalled and will need to scrub my eyes for three days to erase what I read in that DM

here's a more positive message bc ew

I'd like to give a trigger warning right now for dysphoria, depressive thoughts, self-hating thoughts, and anxious thoughts in this story. It mentions negative thoughts towards oneself being asexual, aromantic, transgender, depressed, and anxious. If you feel that these may trigger you in any way, or that you are not in the right headspace to read it, that's absolutely fine. I'll have a fluffier one out in a few days, and you can read that instead :)

take care of yourself and please understand that there are people like you everywhere. You are not alone in your struggle, and there are people you can reach out to :) you are not a freak, you are not crazy or broken or worthless or useless, you won the genetic race and you are here, on this earth, with sun and rain and fire, you are just as important as everything around you, the ladybugs and the leaves and the rivers. You are here, and you belong here. 

Often, I am upset

He closed his eyes tightly, trying desperately to stop the tears that so badly wanted to fall.

Am I broken? he thought. He had to be broken, something was wrong with him, why was he like this?

When he opened his eyes, the wrecked image in the mirror was still there, staring at him with the same hate it always held.

That I cannot fall in love

Valentine's Day was always hard. The couples, so many happy couples with each other, just loving and kissing and-

He shook his head and sighed. He knew Luna was asexual and aromantic too, but there was a dividing line between them, and that line was care.

Luna didn't care. She was happy with who she was. She focused on helping Neville with his gardening and coming to Ginny's Quidditch games and teaching Harry how to dance and telling Hermione when it was time to take breaks and bringing Ron food to the common room. She wasn't good with touch, but it didn't bother her, and it didn't bother those around her. They were careful with light shoulder touches, avoiding the face and the legs and the neck, and it was easy for her.

Draco cared. He hated who he was. He felt frustrated that he couldn't feel that love- that need to kiss and date and fuck. He wanted to. He wanted so badly to have someone with him, but he didn't feel that love and attraction normal people felt. He wanted to hold someone close, but he didn't feel that romantic pull to do so, and he wished he did so he could justify his need to have someone by his side.

But I guess this avoids the stress of falling out of it

But occasionally he watched Parvati fight with Lavender or Pansy break up with her newest partner or Theo cry over their newest break-up, and he thought that at least he had a built-in system that stopped heartbreak.

It didn't really feel like it, though. Watching Blaise kiss Neville and Hermione laugh as Ron pulled her away from her papers and Padma smile shyly when Terry asked her out felt like watching a movie he wished he was in.

Are you tired of me yet?

"Do you hate me?" he asked one day before he could stop himself.

Pansy gave a long, slow blink and lowered her book. "What? Are you fucking stupid?"

Draco's hands were shaking. "You didn't talk to me at all today, I thought maybe-"

"Lord, Draco, I was working on an essay." Her eyes softened at the clear anxiety building in him. "I don't hate you, Draco. I hate Michael Corner. You know how I act around people I hate. I'll let you know if I start hating you, but I gotta say, it's unlikely to happen. I've stayed by you for eight years, there's not much else you could do. You joined a cult, essentially, and I stood by you. You're all good, Draco."

I'm a little sick right now

He was going to throw up.

Anxiety built in him faster and faster, his body feeling off-balance, cold and shaky, his breathing coming in short bursts, mind wracked with plaguing thoughts.

I can't breathe I'm going to die This is how I die I'm dying I hate this It's all my fault Make it stop Please Please PleasePleasePlease I deserve this I'm sorry please I'm sorry Please stop this

"Hey! Hey, Draco, you doin- you doing alright? You look real pale- Draco? Draco? Hey, okay shit- can I touch you? Would that be okay?"

Don't touch don't fucking touch me oh god I'm gonna die don't touch me you're suffocating me

A warm hand brushed his shoulder and he jumped away violently, body shaking harder. His legs gave out and he crumpled to the floor, shaking, crying, and gasping for air through his clouded, horrible thoughts.

"That's a no for touch. Okay, you're alright, Hermione told me about these, um... panic attacks? Anxiety attacks? Do you have anxiety?"

FuckgodfuckkillmejustenditjustkillmeIdeserveititsmyfault

"Right. Okay. Cool." There was a long, shaky breath, and someone kneeled next to Draco. "Hey. I'm not going to touch you. You're safe, you're okay. You can breathe. Stay here, with me. I know this feels awful for you, but there is an end to it, and we're gonna get there together."

Please just stop it make it stop I hate this please

"Please make it stop," Draco gasped, his voice sounding awful and gasping.

But I swear, when I'm ready I will fly us out of here

"Okay, okay, I'll make it stop. You're safe, Draco, you're safe. We're in a corridor at Hogwarts. Just below the Astronomy- oh. Oh God. That's why you're- oh. Okay. Alright. You're here. With me. Harry, if you didn't realize. What you're going through is scary, I know. But you're in no danger. You are safe. Slow down for a moment. Just... slow down." Harry's voice got slower, like those Muggle hypnotists Pansy was so fascinated by. "Slow down, and count... um, count the girls in the Slytherin house. Millicent Bulstrode."

Pansy Parkinson.

"Tracey Davis. Pansy Parkinson. Daphne Greengrass."

"Ast-Astoria."

"Yeah, Astoria Greengrass."

"Em-ma Vane."

"Who the hell is Emma Vane?" Harry's voice was so genuinely confused that it shattered the bubble of anxiety around Draco's head, his gasping breaths turning into gasps of laughter.

"'m tired," Draco mumbled, his body exhausted from his anxiety attack. He felt like he could sleep forever.

"I got you. Got to sleep, I'll get us out of here."

Draco fell asleep to the feeling of Harry carrying him away from the Astronomy Tower.

I'll cut my hair

Fuck you, Draco thought viciously as he cut off the shoulder-length hair his father had wanted him to keep to 'preserve his femininity'. Fuck. You.

Short locks of curly gold hair fell to the ground, and Draco felt lighter with every piece gone. It was dumb, to feel lighter when something that weighed nearly nothing was gone, but it was more a weight on the soul than one on the body.

Pretending to be something you're not will do that to a person.

To make you stare

Lucius's lips tightened when he saw the short curls atop Draco's head. Narcissa gave no inclination of any sort of emotion. Instead, she simply reached across the dinner table and charmed the rose-colored glass where Draco usually drank out of to be a soft blue, and said nothing more.

I'll hide my chest

No charms would erase the scars on Draco's chest.

Not the ones from that god-forsaken night in the bathrooms, but the ones from the night his mother had come into his room, taken his hand, and Apparated them both to St. Mungos for a gender reassignment surgery.

For some horrible, soul-sucking, torturous reason, the scars wouldn't fade. They wouldn't heal. They wouldn't be charmed away. They stayed there, a painful reminder that Draco could never truly be himself, that he would always be a freak.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Draco squeaked, covering his chest with his shirt.

And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

Harry rose one eyebrow. "You know guys walk around the Gryffindor common room shirtless all the time, right? You're no different."

Draco stilled at those words. "Of course I'm different, Potter."

"You haven't called me Potter since sixth year."

"Maybe I should go back."

"You're changing the subject."

"Am not."

Harry just looked at him, unimpressed by his debating skills. Draco privately agreed.

"Look, it's just- the scars-"

Instantly, the look on Harry's face fell. "What?"

"Yeah? You thought it wouldn't scar? Nothing gets rid of them, not charms or Muggle cures or praying. I've tried them all. Nothing."

"I didn't know you had scars," Harry whispered, voice trembling.

Draco shrugged, and let the shirt fall to reveal his greatest shame. Harry made a small noise, and he was right in front of Draco before Draco could even say anything.

But instead of staring at the two crescent-shaped scars, Harry ran a finger over one of the thin white lines from the Sectumsempra in sixth year. 

"God, I'm so sorry," he breathed. "I truly didn't know what it did, and I didn't even think afterward it would scar. Could you ever forgive me?"

"Wh- Potter, can you not see the other ones?"

"What? Those?" Harry waved dismissively at the surgery scars. "Those are battle scars. These-" he ran his finger over another one of the silvery scars. "-these are my greatest regret."

Turn off your porcelain face

At that, Draco cracked.

"Battle scars?" he croaked through an impossibly dry throat.

"Well, yeah." Harry looked at him with wide eyes, unaware of the effect his words were having on Draco. "You think people haven't noticed everything you've gone through, with sixth year and this year getting your surgeries and you cut your hair and your father disowning you? You've been fighting a battle long before any of us have, and you've got your scars to show it." He pointed at his own forehead. "Scars show when something life-changing has happened, it's a map of the places we've been and the things we've been through. They don't define you, but they do build you."

Draco was speechless for several seconds, before he simply let out a choked "Thank you" and hugged Harry tightly.

I can't really think right now in this place

The library was supposed to be somewhere he could focus, but everything was just too loud, sensory overload was starting to take over and Draco closed his eyes. 

4, 3, 2, 1. I'm okay. I'm okay, slow down, I'm okay, he thought, trying to breathe.

"Hey Parvati!" someone called, breaking Draco out of his calming chant. He winced as chair legs scraped against floor, Madame Pince shushed them, whispers and giggles grating on his every nerve.

There's too many colors

Pink, purple, blue, green, yellow, orange, red. 3, 6, 9, 12, 15, 18, 21. In. Out. There are no threats, you're just a sensitive bitch. 

Someone dropped a book. Draco gritted his teeth, clutching his own textbook. Sunflower, daisy, daffodil, lily, magnolia. Red and green. Blue and orange. Yellow and purple. 

Enough to drive us all insane

Someone scratched their quill against the parchment, the noise nonstop and irritating. Draco stood abruptly, trying to grow his simultaneous anxiety and irritation. Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, Emma Va-

"Psst! Lavender. C'mere!"

Fuck. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, the noise around him overwhelming. He opened them again to grab his bag and leave as quickly as possible. He was fairly sure he left his quill. It was gone, he'd get a new one.

Finally, the sweet silence of the corridor was his, and he slumped in relief, wondering what cruel joke God was playing by giving him so many things to hate about himself.

Are you dead?

Draco stared at the portrait.

"What do you need?" Painting-Severus snapped.

"I'm just- I missed you."

Painting-Severus rolled his eyes. "Pity. I was in the middle of something, if you don't mind." He slid out of the frame, and Draco let it fall to the ground.

Sometimes I think I'm dead

There truly was no better place to contemplate one's own existence than atop the Astronomy Tower at 3 a.m.

Draco would know. He spent almost every night here, wondering if he had just thrown himself off in sixth year before letting in the Death Eaters, if none of this would have happened. Dumbledore wouldn't be dead, maybe Voldemort would have been killed sooner.

'Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head

He would never be able to get the image out of his mind. The blank, accepting look in Dumbledore's eyes as he fell. If Draco had stopped the Death Eaters-

Draco closed his eyes, but even behind closed eyelids he could see the blank look in Albus Dumbledore's eyes.

But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

He fought the tiredness that always inevitably came around 4 a.m. With sleep came nightmares, and Draco wasn't ready for that yet.

He never could pull all-nighters, though. He always got so close, before getting too tired to follow through.

My eyes went dark

He wondered how he must look to people. If he looked insane, hopeless, depressed. If he looked dead. Maybe they would call Madame Pomfrey. Maybe they would leave him there. Maybe they would throw him off. He wasn't sure if he cared either way.

He wondered when people looked in his eyes if they were still grey, or if they were as empty and dark as the night sky expanding over him.

I don't know where my pupils are

His eyelids were heavier now. Exhaustion was setting in, his limbs heavy from doing nothing, mind heavy from thinking about everything.

As his eyelids closed, he swore he could see the sky lightening for the sunrise.

"Jesus fuck, Draco, I thought you were dead."

Draco blinked, opening his eyes again. "What time is it?"

"Just after five."

Oh. Draco had only been asleep for a few minutes. No wonder he still felt tired.

"What are you doing up here?"

"What are you?"

But I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

"I thought I'd watch the sunrise." Harry held out a hand, and after a long moment, Draco took it. Harry pulled him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist when Draco stumbled and blinked at the sudden equilibrium change spinning his head.

As his vision cleared, he saw Harry looking at him in concern, his head framed by a halo of the sunrise behind him.

Draco kissed him.

Harry pulled back, alarmed. "Why did you do that?"

Draco shrugged, anxiety already creeping in where emptiness had settled. "Isn't that what people do?"

"People who feel romantic attraction, maybe. You don't. I don't. Neither of us gained anything from that. I don't like kissing."

Draco blinked, trying to clear his head. "You're...?"

"Aromantic? Yeah. I don't think I'm asexual, though."

"But don't you..." Draco cleared his throat and blinked again. "Don't you think it's weird?"

"Why should I? It's not ruining my life."

"It's not?"

Harry gave him a strange look. "No. Should it?"

Get a load of this monster

Harry's words echoed in Draco's head as he stared at himself in the mirror hours after talking to him.

He wondered how Harry was so fine with it. Harry was happy with it.

Why couldn't Draco be?

He was alone. He would never have anyone.

He doesn't know how to communicate

"Do you hate me?" he asked one day before he could stop himself.

Blaise turned from his spot watching the mermaids through the glass wall in the dungeons. "Beg your pardon?"

Draco's hands were shaking. "You didn't talk to me at all today, I thought maybe-"

"Draco, I get overwhelmed a lot socially, and sometimes I just need breaks to not talk to anyone. It's not you, I just have to be by myself sometimes to relax. You're all good, Draco."

His mind is in a different place

Valentine's Day was always hard. The couples, so many happy couples with each other, just loving and kissing and-

He shook his head and sighed. All he wanted was someone to be by his side, but he could never love someone like that. He just wanted to be fucking normal.

Will everyone please give him a little bit of space

Pansy had been with her newest girlfriend, Tracey Davis, for four months. Theo was flirting with a seventh-year Ravenclaw. Blaise and Neville were spending all their time together. All of his friends who had previously been single just months before, just like him, were now finding themselves someone to be with.

It felt like Draco wanted someone to love him, but he didn't want love. It was a tangled mess of contradictions, and he hated himself and his friends and everyone else, so he pushed everyone away. He stopped coming to classes, stopped coming down to eat, stopped talking to anyone. When he needed food, the house-elves popped up to the Astronomy Tower. 

As he watched the sunrise, he wondered what the point of seeing the world's beauty was if there was no one to share it with.

Get a load of this trainwreck

He felt like screaming. He was breathing in and out, faster and faster, desperately trying to find oxygen to grace his worthless lungs, wondering if it was even worth it to breathe at all. 

Everything about him was fucked up anyway. He couldn't even be born in the right body, and when he finally got the body he wanted, it was riddled with scars and couldn't feel love and didn't want sex and feared everything and hated itself.

He stormed into the bathroom by the Astronomy Tower, gasping and splashing water on his face.

His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet

He closed his eyes tightly, trying desperately to stop the tears that so badly wanted to fall.

Am I broken? he thought. He had to be broken, something was wrong with him, why was he like this?

When he opened his eyes, the wrecked image in the mirror was still there, staring at him with the same hate it always held.

But little do we know

The bathroom door banged open loudly as Draco stormed back out, but he barely flinched, marching right up to the edge of the tower before he stopped, soft gasping sobs escaping him.

And now you can't even commit suicide correctly? Fuck up. Idiot. Useless. He clutched his hair, and one of his tears fell down to the ground below, and Draco wished he had the courage to follow.

The black sky seemed to mock him in its emptiness, and Draco wanted to challenge it by proving he could do this, he could do one thing right.

The stars welcome him with open arms

His left foot was barely on the ledge when a quiet voice said, "I wouldn't if I were you."

Draco spun around to face Harry. "What?"

Harry shrugged. "Lot to live for, ya know? Just because today sucks doesn't mean tomorrow will."

"Every day sucks, Potter."

"Then wait for the one that doesn't. Aren't you curious to see what it looks like? To see what the sky looks like on the day you decide maybe life is okay?"

"The sky is, and always has been, empty and blank."

"Oh, Draco." Harry shook his head, stepping forward. "Of course it's not. The sky is full of stars."

Time is slowly tracing his face

Harry cupped Draco's face lightly, looking into his eyes with such genuine concern that Draco almost broke right there.

"Are you going to kiss me?" he croaked out.

"No. I've already told you, I don't like kissing."

"How are you so okay with it? With yourself? How do you think about the fact that you'll be alone forever, and just find joy in that thought?"

Harry frowned. "What on earth makes you think I'll be alone forever?"

"You don't feel love, Harry. You can't love anyone, so you can't get married or have kids or anything."

Harry shook his head. "Stop. Stop right there. I don't feel romantic love. I still feel love for my friends, for the world around me... for you. I can have kids, and I plan to. I can have kids and dogs and friends and a platonic life partner, and-"

"A what?"

Harry's eyes widened. "You... Draco, you don't have to be alone. There are other aromantic and asexual people. They find platonic life partners, like spouses without romance or sex, just people to share their life with. You aren't alone because you're aromantic, you're alone because you pushed everyone away."

Draco gasped softly, feeling tears running down his face. Harry wiped a few away with a careful smile.

"I... I can..." He couldn't even comprehend the thought. He thought he was going to be alone for his whole life.

Harry's eyes were watery too, although none fell.

"You can."

Harry pulled him into a tight hug, and Draco realized that even though kisses felt like nothing, hugs felt like warmth and safety and hope.

But strangely, he feels at home in this place