Turned to Cold

Draco went over to the bathroom sink turning on the tap, and pouring water over his face. Dripping, he stared into the mirror. Through the water streaked a path of tears. Draco put his hand up on the mirror, crying. He punched the mirror several times, before staring straight at himself. At what he had become, his long hair drooping down in front of his face. The sight he saw repulsed him, he didn't like himself one bit. He punched the mirror. Hard. The mirror broke, shards of the mirror sliced open his hand.

Draco cried immensely, blood and tears dripping onto the ground. Not sure why, he picked up one of the shards off the floor. Going on impulse he pushed it into his chest, creating a deep cut, with a slow but forceful movement of his wrist, he dragged the shard across his chest, blood pouring down out of the freshly cut skin. He threw the mirror away. Howling in pain.

Draco didn't know what to do. Anything would be better. He loved the boy so much, but knew it wasn't right. He couldn't have him. Nor should he.

Draco had never experienced such emotional stress. He didn't know what to do, he had to kill the one boy he loved, within two days, or suffer death himself and to all his family. Not even the feelings he had when his parents broke up, after his dad cheated on his mum with her sister, came near what he felt for this boy now.

Draco's thoughts were all blurred. Nothing made any sense.

Draco knew it was best not to get on Voldemorts bad side, but in reailty that meant killing Harry. And if he didn't do as the dark lord demanded, he, and everyone else he loved would be killed.

Draco stared at the blood dripping off his palm. He knew he really shouldn't but he did anyway. He grabbed at his hand and in one swift flick of his tongue, lapped up his own blood.

He savored the taste, not wanting to spill another drop of the crimson liquid on the floor, he sucked at the wounds on his hands, swallowing every drop his mouth could possibly manage to handle. It was fucked up, he didn't know why he was doing it. But he loved every second of it.

Unsure of what he was doing, Malfoy crawled back over to the wall, desperate for more. Hunched on all fours, he found the shard of glass, still covered in his blood from his previous cutting, he dug the corner deep into his arm, seperating pure blood flesh. Licking up the arm, he got a fresher taste for his own blood. He sucked at his wound, treating it as if it were just some piece of meat he was eating at dinner. Devouring it, taking every drop it had to offer.

At that moment Harry came bustling through the door.

"What the fuck?!" Bellowed Harry.

He could not believe the sight before him. Draco Malfoy sprawled on the floor, bleeding from several cuts, surrounded by broken mirror pieces, blood covered lips, a large gash across the chest, blood everywhere on the floor.

"Draco! What the fuck happened?" Screamed Harry, now trying to aid his lover.

"Get away! Get away from me! FUCK OFF!" Yelled Draco.

Draco tried standing up, but his feet collapsed on him, Harry ran over to his side, helping him stand up, he poured water on his gashes, cleaning him up.

"Who did this to you?" Harry asked.

"I did."

"WHAT! Why?" Beckoned Harry.

"I don't know, i acted off of impulse."

"You fucking idiot." Sighed Harry.

"I shouldn't have left you, I didn't know you'd do this to yourself." Said Harry, now picking up Draco off the floor and helping him up. The two boys walked their way to the Gryffindor common room.

Harry would have taken him to the hospital wing, but Madam Pomfrey was also on holidays, no-one was staying back from the Syltherin house, and Draco was too fragile to try and extract a password from.

"Bubutober Pus" Said Harry, entering the common room, he took Draco straight up to his dormitory.

Harry cleaned up Draco's wounds, casting spell upon spell, trying to clean the wound, Harry didn't want to heal Draco's cuts. He wanted him to see what he did, wanted him to scar, he wasn't sure why but he felt it necessary for Draco to see what he did to himself. See what kind of sick freak he was. He carried him up to his bed, laid him neatly across his bed. Draping him in the sheets, it was a perfect sight, Draco Malfoy in his bed, half naked, bloody, sweaty and passed out. Harry went and laid down next to his unconscious lover, cradling him in his arms, Harry fell into a deep sleep.