Chapter 11: Discorded among the broken

Draco struggled to sit up only to flinch in pain. Assuming Madame Pomfrey wasn't going to appear soon, he laid on the unfamiliar bed as he drowned in his own thoughts.

A part of him was in shame that Harry found him in his weakest moments. It was as if the most vulnerable part of him was ripped apart, tearing into his flesh.

He didn't need his pity.

Yet, when his arms wrapped itself around his shivering back, he felt at peace. What happened to the mask he held was, momentarily, gone.

He distantly remembered being carried, his conscious slipping away slowly. Warmth seeped into his worthless body as he felt his eyes closing against his will.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into a few months. He got use to it, the symptoms of insomnia seeping into his bones. He was a victim of sleeping spells, but of course, it slowly ceased to work and he would fell asleep for a few hours.

Four hours.

That was the limit that his mentality could take before he would erupt in endless sobbing and screams held tightly behind his teeth. No matter how much his body beg for sleep, he was never allowed rest without nightmares in his chaotic mind.

In a strange way, it reminded himself of black coffee, a black abyssal that consumed everything, like his soul.

"Harry?" A voice called out from the door that snapped him out of his stupor.

"Harry, are in there?" The female voice asked softly before she knocked twice and open it gently.

Her eyes widening as she saw Draco Malfoy on the bed with his pale face, and she stepped back unconsciously.

"Have...I entered in a wrong time?" She asked cautiously.

"What do you think?" He snapped, the mask firmly back on his face.

Biting back a reply, Ginny reached out for the door. "I'm sorry for the disturb."

Twisting the door knob, her eyes flashed to the window panes only to see his reflection that somehow made her felt sympathy towards him.

Laying there weakly, his eyes were hollow as he stared as the corner of the room, gazing blankly like a puppet. Biting her lower lip and bracing for harsh fury, she walked back and sat down suddenly, causing Draco to jump.

Ignoring his surprise, she glance at him and asked him softly; "Are you okay, Draco?"

Okay? That word didn't really registered in his head anymore. He wanted to scream, yet his voice appeared only as whisper in the crowds. Nowadays, no one asked him anymore, whether he was okay, because no one cared, and they all knew the truth.

He wasn't.
He wasn't okay.

That was the truth, the cold reality he never seemed to be able to face.

But there it was.

"Do you think I look okay, weasel?" And he, for once, snapped. The sudden roar didn't surprise her as she took it in, looking at him with sympathy.

He didn't need anyone's sympathy.

Because they wouldn't understand.

But, did he really think so? His heart wavered, and the shadows of helplessness slipped out.

"Harry cares about you, you know. We all do." That caught his attention as he looked at her scornfully. As if it wasn't obvious enough that everyone knew that their family were against each other like cats and dogs.

"We do, actually." She said. "I guess, in some ways, The War united us all. We all shared a part of something, Malfoy, and there's nothing that can wipe it away." Suddenly, she looked older, older than her years should allow her to be. A voice in him whispered that she, too, had lost something during the times of blood, and for once, her iron will impressed him as he saw the steel for the first time in her eyes.

This was the girl that Harry was dating.

His heart clenched, and he felt himself hurting for something that felt incomplete in him.

"Even if the rest if them don't notice, I can see it. Those eyebags under your eyes hidden with magic and the lines that slipped from my sight." She said the last part quietly.

"You know." It was a statement, not a question.

She gave a bitter smile. "I notice a lot of things people don't want me to notice, actually." Her eyes were saddened as they spoke of secrets he didn't know.

He looked at her and said simply. "That must be tough."

Her gaze was wistful, tilting her head a little to the side.

"I guess its better this way, carrying a little of their burdens for them without them knowing."

He leaned forward despite the pain as his eyes searched hers. "What about you then? Your own burden?"

Her laughter was musical as was her brilliant smile as she answered; "My burden is mine to keep, and no one to see."

And it struck him then, how she held all the darkness in, just like Harry. But while Harry showed signs of it in times, hers was buried so deeply he knew not of the abyss in her.

That was when Draco felt sympathy, the same sympathy she had for him. It must have shown, for her eyes portrayed her tiredness.

"Ginny," he blurted out, for once saying her real name. She looked at him. "Would you mind if I paint you?" His fingers twitched as he glanced at her.

A real smile appeared, complimenting her features as she looked ethereal. "Of course, Draco."

Using his battered wand that had somehow survived, he accio his art supplies as he propped the board at his side as he began painting.

It was ironic, to think that Ginny Weasley, of all people, would be his first portrait drawing.

But, that would be one secret he would be keeping.

Life was okay, but updates will be slow. Seems like this year will be a little busy for me.

But, how was this chapter? Hopefully its okay :)

There's not much to talk about, so s'long people!