Hi! You'll be getting a glimpse of what depression and PTSD actually feels like here. A lot of you seem to write them constantly feeling sad or angry, but that is just not the case. Don't ask how I know this. Enjoy!

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Draco opened his eyes the next morning, feeling more dead than he ever had before in his entire life. He didn't understand the emotion he was feeling, trying to pinpoint the name for it becoming a time consuming and exhausting task. He wanted to get out of bed, but he didn't have the energy. After laying there for longer than he'd like to admit, he got up and started to get dressed.

After unbuttoning his shirt he looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror. Only he didn't see himself. He pinched the skin on his stomach and saw some bruises left behind from the night before. Tears welled up in his eyes, but the strange part was, he didn't feel sad. He wasn't sad or in pain, he wasn't happy that he had less fat than the day before, he wasn't angry at Anthony, Ron or McGonagall. Then he could come up with a name for what he was feeling. 

Nothing. He felt nothing. The pain had finally stopped, his sadness had finally ended and his anger at the world had vanished. But that didn't make him happy. Because he the happiness he had expected from his pain and sorrow ending, it wasn't there. The only thing he felt, was nothing. Nothing at all. And what did that look like? Nothing. He didn't look or act any different. He just felt different.

He tried to think of something that once made him sad or angry. He thought of witnessing Dumbledore's death. Nothing. He thought of his father beating him. Nothing. He thought of how much pain his mother was in. Nothing. He thought of Anthony and the night before. Nothing, but an inkling of fear that it might happen again. He thought of Harry. Nothing...

He was officially broken, and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it, because no one would understand. He couldn't tell anyone he'd been raped. They would judge him for being so weak. He couldn't tell anyone about what was going on at home. It would only get worse for him and his mother. The only thing he could do, was try to feel again. And there was only one way he knew how to do that.

He went into the bathroom and took his shirt off, exposing the small pink scars on his wrist, running against his arteries. Scissors didn't do too much, but shavers didn't work and no one used razor blades as far as he knew. So scissors were his only option. He pressed as hard as he could, wanting it to actually bleed, and it did. It was a thin cut, and not too long, but it bleed. And when he washed it, a little bit of blood came back.

He felt oddly relaxed and tried to use the scissors on his Dark Mark, but the cuts he did manage to make were too thin for the mark to be affected. 

He sighed, putting the scissors away and getting dressed, looking in the mirror and for once not caring that his hair was a mess. He didn't bother to do anything, just smoothing it with his fingers before leaving.

He didn't bother with breakfast either, ignoring Violet when she tried to drag him to the Great Hall. His first class was Arithmancy, and so he headed there without even acknowledging the people around him. He ended up bumping shoulders with a certain red head he wasn't too fond of in that moment.

"Watch it, Malfoy," Ron sneered.

"Fuck off," the blonde replied.

"Someone's in a mood today."

Draco thought he'd feel more angry when meeting Ron, but he was really only annoyed. But this Gryffindor had gotten him detention for being raped, even if he didn't know about the whole getting raped part. 

Class was boring and Draco tried to do some work, but was also struggling to stay awake the whole time after getting very little sleep for Merlin knows how long. He sat there for most of the lesson drawing random doodles on the edges of his paper. They weren't very good - or, he didn't think they were very good. Really, they were better than most people older than him could do.

After that he had History of Magic with the Ravenclaws, and boy was that class going to be interesting. He walked as slow as he could, dreading the moment he came face to face with Anthony Goldstein. Somehow Draco still managed to make it to class on time, despite his efforts to get there late. On the bright side he didn't see Anthony when he arrived. Maybe he has a really bad hangover and I won't have to see him.

But that was the most hopeful thinking he'd done in a while, and hope wasn't exactly a good friend to him. More like an enemy. So, Anthony did show up to class, but he didn't seem all to fazed by the events of the prior night. This sparked some mild frustration in Draco, but he honestly didn't have the energy to care. He wasn't even that bothered when he sat down alone.

Draco sat alone in a lot of his classes, but usually he'd feel a bit sad about it. Today however, he didn't care anymore. Of course, it did hurt a little bit that he was basically invisible, but that just meant he'd get away with not doing any work. 

Once that class was over he skipped lunch and went straight to his next lesson, still not caring that Violet would nag him later. And that's how the day went by. He skipped every meal and paid very little attention in all of his classes. The teachers ignored him anyway, and it's not like the students gave a crap about what happened to him. No one cared that he was even there, so why should he even bother?

When laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, he started to think about how far south his life had gone in the span of what, eighteen years. Maybe less. But even so, one person shouldn't have to endure so much pain in that amount of time, or at all. Yes, he had been a bully. But could you really blame him for being scared to let people in after his father? He called people names, but that didn't make him a bad person did it?

-~-

Draco lay in bed, oblivious to the world around him, trapped in his own silent black abyss of emptiness. He lay there, tears streaming down his expressionless face as he contemplated what was so wrong with him that life would throw all these problems at him. He thought about death. The only people that would care were Violet and his mother. And he could never do that to his mother. No matter how alone he felt.

That day went by as usual, only when he sat in the library when he was supposed to be at dinner an unlikely friend sat down with him.

"Hi," Luna said in her sweet voice.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Hi?"

"I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"I know it was you that snuck the extra food and blankets down for all of us."

Oh, Draco thought, she figured it out, "I um, how?"

"The floor down there isn't too good for sleeping. I figured you knew that."

Draco's head shot up in fear, "I beg your pardon?"

"It is your Manor after all."

"Right yeah, I do live there don't I?"

Luna giggled, "Listen, I know my friends don't like you all that much, but I was hoping we could be friends."

"You, Luna Lovegood, want to be friends with me, Draco Malfoy?"

"Exactly. Would you?"

Draco was taken aback, but he didn't really like being lonely, "Sure. I'd love to be your friend Luna."

Luna held her hand out and Draco took it, shaking hands.

"You know," Luna started, "a first year asked me if we were siblings or cousins."

Draco chuckled, "Well you tell them that we probably are."

Luna and Draco continued to talk for a bit before heading out through the hallway and separating paths when they needed to go back to their dormitories. Draco began to think the moment that had just occurred, wondering what he felt in that moment. It wasn't happiness he supposed, more like a miniscule amount of joy. But hey, it had been a while since he felt that, and he would take what he could get.

While in trance, Draco didn't realise what was going on around him until he was suddenly pulled into a dark broom cupboard. When the light went on, Draco saw the face of Anthony Goldstein, and began to panic.

"Hey," Anthony whispered, "Um, nothing happened the other night, got it?"

After Draco slowed his breathing a little he spoke, "Nothing happened? You fucking raped me!" He hissed.

"No, I went looking for you and never found you. Understand?"

"No I don't understand! You just want me to act like nothing happened?"

"Yes. Because nothing did happen."

"No. Something did happen -"

"No, it didn't. Okay. Nothing happened between us."

"You, raped me. And you expect me to forget it? Act like it didn't happen?"

"Yes. Listen, I'm sorry, but if anyone found out -"

"Your reputation would be ruined? Welcome to my world. Only, I never raped people."

"Listen, I didn't rape you. We never saw each other after you left."

"I screamed at you to stop. Does that just not matter?"

"No, it does, but people can't know."

"Why? You scared? Are you worried people will hate you?"

"Okay, go ahead. Tell everyone."

The two stood there in silence.

"You won't do it. You're ashamed."

"Of course I am! I was raped!"

"Or, for both of our sakes, you weren't?"

Draco sighed, "Fine."

"Thank you. I owe you one."

Anthony left and Draco closed the door, wanting to be alone for a bit and the corridors were littered with students. Draco slid down a wall, held his knees to his chest and began to cry. He used his sleeves to wipe the tears off his blotchy face, but this did virtually nothing as more tears fell. He began to breathe quickly, his airway tightening and making it difficult to inhale and exhale. 

What's wrong with me? Why does this keep happening?

Everything is wrong with you. You're worthless.

I'm worthless...

Draco continued to cry, cradling himself in the broom cupboard and struggling to breathe properly. Eventually he managed to slow his breathing, and he wiped the remaining tears from his face. After that, he went into the bathroom - Moaning Myrtles bathroom so that no one would see him - dropped his bag and cleaned himself up. He looked into the mirror, and out of rage, punched the glass, distorting his reflection.

A medium sized shard fell from the wall and lay in the sink, taunting the blonde, teasing him, mocking him. He'd had enough of being mocked, tormented and used, and enough of the scissors doing little damage. So, he picked the shard up; pressed it to his pale wrist and sliced across it. Blood dripped slowly from the wound, making a small puddle in the sink. and so he cut more.

And when he got to his left arm, he went deeper in order to be rid of the horrid mark tainting his skin. The black acidic liquid of the mark trailed down his palm and fingers, burning the skin it touched and paling the mark. 

He washed both of his arms and pulled his sleeves down while turning to leave, only to be met by the shocked expression of Harry Potter.

"Malfoy why?" He asked pitifully.

"Why what?" Draco held his sleeves to his palms so that his wrists weren't visible. 

"Why did you, cut...?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Malfoy, you're - well - Malfoy. What could possibly make you do this to yourself?"

"Potter, you must be seeing things because I assure you I did nothing."

"Alright then, roll up your sleeves."

"And why should I?"

"To prove you didn't do anything."

"I don't need to prove anything. And especially not to an unlovable worthless Gryffindor like you."

Harry walked towards Draco slowly, "Give me, your arm."

Draco felt small when he heard the demand in the taller boys voice, fighting the urge of submission his father had - quite literally - drilled into him. Well, more like fucked into him now that he knew what happened when he was seven. He stood there under Harry's gaze, giving in and rolling his sleeves up.

Harry's eyes widened, "Oh my Merlin, Malfoy -"

"Don't. Just, don't..."

"What happened?"

"That's none of your business now is it. So just keep your nose in you own business."

"Malfoy I'm trying to help. You don't need to be so rude about it."

"I guess I don't, but your face assaulted my eyes so I figured I'd return the favour."

"Malfoy," Harry stepped towards the blonde, an expression of slight annoyance finding it's way onto his face.

Draco stepped back and hit the wall, beginning to tremble as images of his father and even Anthony polluted his thoughts. As he flashed between what was actually happening and his memories he ended up in the bathroom with Anthony yelling at him and his father pointing a wand at him. Draco's eyes stung with unshed tears and he began to have trouble breathing again. He slid down the wall as Anthony and Lucius continued to yell at him.

"You're weak and shameful! You could've pushed me off!"

"No. No no no no..."

"Words do nothing, you needed to be useful for once!"

"Shut up!"

Anthony leaned down, pinning him to the wall and Lucius yelled, "Crucio!"

"ARGH!! Make it stop! Please, just make it stop!"

"You'll never be good enough!"

Anthony's hand landed on Draco's knee and he decided he wouldn't make the same mistake.

"Don't touch me!" He pushed him off and saw Harry leaning on his arms and heard the Gryffindor wince when his elbow hit the floor, "Oh Merlin. Potter I'm sorry I -" Draco couldn't finish before breaking down into tears.

"It's okay," Harry replied getting up, "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"That didn't look or sound like nothing. I thought you were having a panic attack."

Draco wiped tears away before replying, "It was nothing. Just - Just drop it okay," more choked sobs escaped as he finished.

"Malfoy, do you have PTSD?"

"No. I haven't gone through anything traumatic."

"I don't know. Living with Voldemort sounds pretty traumatic. Like, the knowledge that his underwear is in one of the draws."

Draco chuckled before wiping away more tears as they fell, "I'm fine. Just feeling a little guilty about everything."

"Malfoy, you told me to shut up before I even said anything. And then I asked what was going on and you told me to make it stop. What did you want to stop?"

"Nothing. I must've misheard you."

"Well, if you're just feeling guilty you know you didn't really do anything wrong."

"Says the person that told me I should be in Azkaban."

Harry closed his mouth and Draco narrowed his eyes at the ebony haired Gryffindor before leaving. He walked back to his dormitory, his anxiety bubbling just below the surface now that Harry knew he was cutting himself. 

-~-

Draco woke up the next morning, and every morning after that, slowly losing grip on everything. He stopped caring, he stopped feeling, he stopped thinking about how his mother would be affected if he died. He just, stopped. He wasn't living, the beating of his heart didn't make him alive and the ability to die didn't make him alive because he was already dead. Merely existing and going day by day, wondering when he'd be able to feel anything again.

He thought being in pain was bad, but feeling empty, alone, dead and worthless twenty-four-seven was definitely worse. There were moment with either Violet or Luna where he forgot about his emptiness, but there were few of those. After each of those moments he'd try to remember what he felt, wondering if he could pinpoint a name for it, and the emotion disappeared and he came up having not felt anything in those moments.

No matter how hard he tried to feel, no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn't. He couldn't take it. But he remembered what happened between him and Anthony. Feeling so ashamed by what happened he started to cover up as much skin as possible, refusing to let people do the same or see him for the slut he was. He remembered the threat. But the funny thing was, he didn't care anymore. The fear of being hurt was the closest thing to emotion he had, and he wanted to cling onto that, but he thought he'd feel some form of joy by telling everyone about Anthony.

And so he dragged the Ravenclaw into an empty classroom and they spoke.

"I'm telling someone."

And that was all Draco had to say before Anthony panicked, "You don't wanna do that. Everyone -"

"Who gives a fuck what everyone else thinks. I was raped, oh no, everyone's gonna bully me for it."

"Malfoy, nothing happened."

"No, something did happen. And I don't care what you do, I'm telling people."

"I didn't wanna have to do this, but you leave me no choice. You tell people what happened, and I'll twist it the other way around. Who do you think they'd believe?"

"You wouldn't."

"I would. You tell people I raped you and I'll tell them you're covering your tracks."

"Tell me then, what was it like?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"What was it like? People will want to know details."

"I um -"

"Exactly. You can't tell people what it was like because you don't know what it's like to be raped."

"And you do?"

"Yes. You're the reason why."

"Okay, tell me, what was that like?"

"Terrifying. I got detention for being out after curfew! I had trouble fucking walking because of you! You violated me!"

"Hm, looks like I do know what it's like to be raped now. I advise you to keep your mouth shut."

Anthony left and Draco stood there a moment before he began to cry, his knees buckling under him and he hit the floor. He balled his eyes out, but amazingly, still didn't feel sad or angry. Just alone and empty. His two favourite feelings.

He felt a hand on his arm and tensed up, the idea of human contact meaning something very different to comfort for the blonde. His breath hitched in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Malfoy," the voice of Harry started, "did - did Anthony rape you?"

At these words Draco was back in the library with the Ravenclaw on top of him.

"No..." he started, "No stop, don't, please..."

Harry moved to try and comfort Draco but the blonde pushed him off, "Don't touch me! Don't - Please - Stop - Get off - I..." Draco trailed off and started to sob into his hands.

"Malfoy I'm not going to hurt you," Harry started, "Just tell me, did Anthony rape you?"

"Maybe - I don't know. I didn't manage to stop him, I let him - Merlin I can't..."

"Did you say no?"

"Yeah..."

"Well then you didn't consent."

"But I could've - I could've pushed him off - I could've done more - I gave up and let him!"

"Malfoy, if you submit out of fear that is not the same as consent."

"I can't, tell anyone. He'll -"

"I know, I heard. But maybe if I -"

"Were you there!? Did you see it happen!? No! So you can't do anything!"

"Malfoy I'm trying to help," Harry said as he tried to place a hand on the back of Draco's shoulder.

Draco slapped it away, "Don't! I don't - I - No."

"Malfoy I'm not going to hurt you -"

"Just leave me alone! I don't want you here! I don't need your help! And I sure as Hell don't need you to tell me what to do about this because you don't know!"

Taken aback and not wanting to do any harm, Harry obeyed the blonde's orders and left. Draco curled up into the foetal position, sobbing. Why do you mess everything up...?

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So, this was an interesting chapter to write. You watch enough sad multifandoms and you know all this shit. I wasn't speaking from experience because I was never raped. I was technically sexually assaulted-ish though, but not really and sexually harassed. 

I honestly did not expect Harry to help and thought of originally using Myrtle, but decided Harry would be better. For literary purposes. Tell me, how do you think this is going to end? Because I know how this is going to end. But you don't. Thank you!

      - Turtlefreakakw2 <3