⚠️ (TW FOR SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND SELF HARM MENTION.) ⚠️

(It might be minor, just scars and bad thoughts, but stay safe guys. Worry about your health.)

*

So the note here is to address something.

Yes, I know that Lucius doesn't actually abuse Draco. I mean, he's just a coward and a shitty deatheater, but he's not an abuser. For the most part, he tried to protect his family.

Unfortunately, when I started this damn book I decided that I WOULD make him an abuser, and now I can't freaking change that. I mean, I could end the book but I'm not gonna do that now lmao

At least it's more angsty and I know that some of y'all live off this shit. You know who you are, I see you.

ALSO, I HAVE 6K READS WHAT-

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Our next classes flew by pretty quickly. Somehow in one day, the whole 'if you don't go to class I won't' debacle spread throughout the entire Slytherin house, and now Blaise and Theo were also in on it for some damn reason.

They did the exact same thing when I started skipping meals and classes during my sixth year so I could work on the vanishing cabinet. I shuddered at the memory. That was quite the year.

Currently, we were finishing up dinner. I was mentally preparing myself to tell Blaise and Theodore about what had happened earlier that day. All because miss 'loudmouth' Pansy Parkinson just had to go and say that I 'needed to talk to them about something later'. Bloody bint.

I got up to go back to the dorms, when I started walking, I glanced back to see everybody getting up to follow me. I inwardly groaned, preparing to tell them.

It was an awkwardly silent walk to the dormitories. When we eventually got to my bed, Pansy and Blaise sat on either side of me, while Theo just leaned against a bedpost.

After some stuttered proclamations, pleading Pansy to tell the rest of the story, and multiple gapes and surprised stares from the two boys, the story was finally over. I was red in the face, Blaise looked ready to kill me, and Theo just looked like he was about to burst out laughing.

"What?"

All at once, Blaise started spouting every possible question that he could think of, Theo was laughing so hard that he sounded like he was squawking, and Pansy yelling at both of them to shut up.

"Both of you, shut your mouths!" She grabbed my face and turned it towards them, squishing my cheeks into a strange position. "Look at him! He's heartbroken!"

The look on my face seemed to make Theo somehow laugh harder than he was before. By now, he was on the floor, attempting to catch his breath while Blaise poked him with the point of his shoe, while also chuckling to himself.

I scowled. "Oh, let go of me you twat!" I spat, pushing her hands off.

Pansy frowned further. "I'm sorry they don't understand the utter severity of your situation here." She shook my shoulders with wide eyes. "This is huge! I mean, you've waited for this for years! Well, the situation sucks, but it happened finally!"

I stared down at my lap. Thoughts and assumptions about the situation began running through my head again. He doesn't actually like you. He's trying to get a rise out of you.

The small voice in my head became bigger and louder. Soon I felt as if I was disassociated with what was happening around me.

Well, I guess I managed to keep the conversation going for a while, because the three of them were leaving to go sit in the common room by the fireplace.

"You sure you don't want to come?" Pansy asked a disappointed glint flashed in her eyes.

Guilt flashed through me, but only for a second. "Yeah. I just need some time to think."

"Well, don't think too much, alright?" She was halfway out the door.

I smiled. "Alright."

The moment she left the room, the smile was wiped off my face.

I moved so my back was against the headboard of my bed. My hands seemed to instantly find my hair. I closed my eyes and weaved my hands through it, and then I pulled. I pulled harder and harder until my head hurt when I took my hands away.

My knuckles were white from clenching my hands so hard. I slowly starting cracking them all.

Satisfying cracking noises emitted from my fingers as a cracked them with the thumb of each hand. Starting from the first and second knuckle of my index finger to my pinky. It tended to calm my nerves if I catch it before doing anything bad.

Slowest my mind drifted from the sound, to what had happened in the classroom, to the astronomy tower, and even to the fiendfire. My mind betrayed me while I tried to concentrate on what I was doing with my fingers.

Depressing intrusive thoughts were speeding in and out of my head without stopping. Either being pictures or degrading words.

He doesn't like you. He never will, never has. He wanted to leave you in the fire. You should've died. You should've burned in the fire. You should've jumped off the astronomy tower. You should DIE-

Crack!

My thoughts all-of-a-sudden went from wanting to die to my middle finger that I was pushing too hard on.

I sharply inhaled and cursed under my breath. I'll deal with that later. I suddenly realized that my face was wet from apparent tears that I'd been crying. I sighed and wiped the tears away with my wrist, and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

I winced while walking into the bathroom. I hadn't been in it since the indecent. Either Theo and Blaise cleaned it, or the house-elves have some major gossip.

The mirror was fixed, and the floors were clean of any blood.

I caught myself in the mirror and cringed. I'm a mess.

My hair was completely ruined from pulling it, and my face was red. My eyes were puffy and bloodshot. I groaned and dragged my hands down my face, yelping when my finger was pushed onto my face.

I turned on the shower and carefully stripped off my clothes, minding the sensitive finger.

I stepped into the shower and sighed with relief. My head cleared while condensation fogged every surface possible.

I quickly washed my hair and face, but what was making the shower so long was me constantly staring at my stupid mark.

I'd never looked at it as much as the past few days. Honestly, the only time I'd done it that much was when I first got the mark. Well, it'd been a bit more then, and maybe even more depressing, but it's easy to get my meaning.

I analysed every scale of the snake, every shadow of the skull, and then inspected the scars and bruises around it.

I ran my hand over the bumps of the larger ones, and looked closer at the smaller, older ones.

There's not a day that passes where I don't desperately wish that I didn't just run away. I was so scared of death and pain. Yet now I seem to want to inflict both on myself? It's ironic.

I scowled at my arm and turned off the water.

My life is such bullshit.