Picking Up the Pieces

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, the warm summer air swirling around me, the hot sun beating down on my face. It was the day after my meeting with Draco and to everyones surprise, the healers had planned an outing for us at Whimsey Park.

We had left in the late morning, traveling via side-along apparition to a forest just North of the park, and then hiked a trail down to the lake. The scenery was awe-inspiring; the forest was lush and green; the lake was a beautiful blue that glittered under the bright, cloudless sky. It was perfect and everyone seemed to enjoy the reprieve, no matter how short-lived it might be.

And although I too was happy to get away from the hospital, my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t stop thinking about the job that had been laid out before me. Getting Emerson to help Draco and I escape did not seem to be too daunting of a task, but somewhere, buried deep, deep down inside of me, I felt a tinge of guilt for using Emerson the way I had in the past, and the way I inevitably would in the future. He was a sweet kid and didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of my bullshit, but there I sat, plotting on using him again for my own selfish gain.

But even more than that, the one thing that I really couldn’t get my mind off of was Draco. He commandeered my every thought. No matter what I was thinking about, one thing would lead to another and before I knew it, my mind would be filled with visions of smooth, ivory skin or soft, pouty lips.

Sometimes the visions would stop there, and I would just admire every inch of Draco's perfect form in the privacy of my own head. But more often than not, my imagination would get away from me and I would have visions of Draco kneeling before me, pleading to suck my dick, or bent over in front of me, his arse begging to be stuffed with my cock. Regardless, with an almost constant hard-on, it was beginning to feel like I was walking around with a loaded weapon; and I was aching for Draco to be the one to pull the trigger.

And sadly, after just thinking about my visions of Draco, I could feel my cock start to stiffen and strain against the denim of my jeans. I stood up quickly, brushing blades of freshly cut grass from my bottom, and began walking towards the lake in an attempt to clear my mind and hopefully, calm my hormones.

My plan was thwarted however as I got closer to the lake and saw that at least a half-a-dozen of the residents were taking a dip in the water, Draco included. I kept walking, getting closer and closer to lake's edge, trying my hardest to remain cool, calm and collected. When I finally reached the shore, I took a seat on top of a shabby looking picnic table to ensure I had a good view of the action.

Typically, a bunch of wet, shirtless guys dancing around in the water would have been enough to turn me on; but the addition of Draco to the mix made my palms start to sweat and my heart start to beat erratically. Seeing him splash around in the water, his blonde locks slicked back, with beads of water sliding down his porcelain skin, his chest, his back; it made my cock harden instantly, almost to the point of discomfort

But I continued to watch him, afraid to miss anything the blonde beauty did. I watched as he raced other guys from one side of the lake to the other, and won almost every time. I watched as he show-boated about, doing flips and handstands, doing cannonballs off the dock. And I watched as he laughed and joked with the others, showing the fun, carefree side of himself I never got to see. If it was possible, he was even more beautiful when he was happy, and I found myself wishing he could be that happy, radiant guy around me.

And suddenly, a small pang began to swell inside of me, starting in my chest and radiating outward until every part of my body prickled with an unfamiliar vexation. What is this, I wondered. Jealousy? Longing? It couldn't be. I wouldn't allow it to be. My goal was to fuck Draco and then leave him by the wayside--that was it. I didn't want to have feelings for him or have the nuisance of a relationship; that wasn't my style. I was a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy. I wanted Draco to want me and to keep wanting me even after I was done with him, nothing more, nothing less. I couldn't lose sight of my goal.

But as I tried to push whatever I was feeling out of me, I looked up and noticed something peculiar. Draco had moved away from most of the group, to a secluded, quiet area of the lake--and he wasn't alone. He was with Emerson.

I narrowed my eyes angrily and watched as Draco talked to Emerson, his hands flailing animatedly as he inched closer to the boy. If only I had brought my Extendable Ear so I could hear what was being said. But even without the aid of my trusty tool, it wasn't hard to see where the conversation was going. Draco leaned in closer to Emerson, whispering in his ear, gently touching him every so often, caressing his shoulder, his arm. And it was clear Emerson was enjoying every second of it.

Every time Draco touched him, Emerson's face lit up like a Christmas tree. And after a few moments, Emerson began returning the sentiment, even getting bold enough to brush a stray strand of hair back from Draco's face. The flirting was evident, and very obviously mutual.

And before I knew it, the feeling from just moments before began bubbling up inside of me again. But this time, it was attacking me ten-fold. I could feel my body start to get hot and my blood start to boil as an intense, excruciating heat began coursing through my entire body. Why is this happening? Get a hold of yourself Harry!

But no matter what I said to myself, I couldn't suppress of the terrible feeling that was building up inside of me. It kept getting stronger and stronger, the flames burning higher and higher until they were searing and blistering my flesh, trying to blaze their way out of the confines of my body. They had to be released.

I hopped off of the picnic table and frantically began looking around for something to release the flames. But regardless of where I looked, I was coming up empty handed. I scoured the picnic area for discarded knives, forks, spoons even; I checked the shore by the lake for jagged looking stones or sharp sticks, but I couldn't find anything that would work.

I kept looking, running around like a chicken with my head cut off, searching desperately for something, anything to douse the flames that threatened to consume me. And just as I thought I was running out of places to look, I spotted a bon-fire pit near the edge of the forest we had hiked through.

I walked over quickly, trying my best not to draw attention to myself, and began sifting through the ashes and charred pieces of wood in the stone fire pit. The first several handfuls turned up nothing, but after searching for several moments, I could feel something rather large and sharp buried beneath the debris. I scooped aside the dirt as quickly as I could, reached down and pulled out a green jagged piece of glass, presumably from a broken bottle. It was perfect.

And with my weapon in hand, I ducked inside the dense forest, and took a seat on a small tree stump covered in thick, green moss. Tears began to stream down my face as I pushed the sleeve of my shirt up and searched for an unmarred spance of skin to cut. But the truth was, virtually no part of my left arm had been left untouched. Hundreds of horizontal lines ran up the inside of my arm from my elbow to my wrist, like a ladder comprised of far too many rungs.

I pushed the sleeve up on my other arm, admiring the blank canvas it provided. Then gripping the glass awkwardly in my left hand, I pressed a corner of it into my skin, until it broke the surface and blood began slowly spilling out. But the pain and the blood did nothing to calm me down. I pressed again and again until a neat row of puncture marks lined the lower part of my forearm, near my wrist. But still, I didn't feel better.

Tears continued to roll down my cheeks as I sat there, frustrated and ready to explode, until suddenly a light went off in my head. I gripped the glass tightly and began cutting my arm. The glass tore painfully into my flesh, leaving messy, ragged lacerations in its place, and simultaneously releasing the fiery torment from my body.

When I finished, I looked down at my work with admiration. It was beautiful--every jagged line, every piece of torn skin. It was a masterpiece, like Ghiberti himself had carved and sculpted my arm into an exquisite work of art. A smile played at the corners of my mouth and all the pain I had felt before was forgotten as I ran my fingers over the words that were now permanently etched into my skin--Avada Kedavra.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I finally dragged myself out of the forest, everyone was out of the water and had gathered into small groups and pairs at the picnic area. Instinctively I looked to see where Draco was and saw him deep in conversation with Adam, the lifer. But I kept my composure, held my head high and took a seat at an empty table off to the side.

"Hey," Draco said as he sauntered over and sat down across from me. "Where did you slip off to?"

"Just exploring," I replied, trying to keep my voice even and void of the absurd jealousy I felt.

"Oh...Well listen, I have good news."

"About?"

"About us getting out," he said dropping his voice to a whisper. "I took the liberty of buttering Emerson up a bit for you. I think he will go along with our plan with no problem. And who knows, you may not even need to fuck him." He winked playfully.

"Buttered him up how? What, did you give him a handjob under the water?"

"Please Potter, I don't feel compelled to use my body to get what I want. I just gushed and told him he seemed like a great guy and like he was really trustworthy."

"And that's all it took" I asked skeptically.

"Well....I may have flirted just a tad. And I may or may not have mentioned I had a sick aunt." He smiled a wickedly delicious smile.

I internally breathed a sigh of relief. Draco hadn't been flirting and chatting it up with Emerson because he wanted him; he was just laying the ground work for convincing Emerson to help us. Even in the crazy house he was the consummate Slytherin.

"Sick aunt, huh?" I smiled.

"Well, Bellatrix is sick, just probably not the kind of sick he was thinking." Draco leaned forward resting his hands on the table near mine. "So tell me Potter, what are your plans after we bust out of here and go our separate ways?"

"Umm...Well," I stammered.

I was suddenly at a loss for words. What was I going to do? I hadn't thought that far ahead yet. Where would I go? What would I do to survive? I had been so consumed with my quest to fuck Draco I hadn't really been thinking about breaking out at all. Sure we had planned our escape, but the only reason I had gotten that far was because planning allowed me to spend more time with Draco. He was the catalyst in it all. So what would I do once he was out of the picture? I hadn't given it a single thought.

"Um, not sure yet," I replied as coolly as possible. "Go wherever the wind takes me I guess."

"Harry," Draco hissed. "That is ridiculous!" My head swirled at his use of my first name. "You have to have some sort of plan. Everyone will be looking for you. Where are you going to go?"

"I guess I'll worry about that when the time comes."

"You can't be serious," he said as he reached out and grabbed my forearms. A small yelp escaped my lips as the pressure from his hands burned the fresh wound beneath my shirt. "What? What's wrong," Draco asked, a hint of concern in his eyes.

"Nothing," I lied as I tried to pull my arms away, but Draco's grip was too tight.

"What did you do Potter?" he asked as he yanked up my sleeve. His eyes got wide as he looked at the writing that was carved into my forearm. I took advantage of his brief distraction, yanked my arm free, and pulled my sleeve back down.

"It's none of you business," I whispered.

"Harry," Draco started, his voice surprisingly uneasy. "Are you going to be okay when we are out of here? I mean, this isn’t normal behavior. You’re not going to…I don’t know, have a breakdown or anything are you?”

“Ha, isn’t that why I am already in here?”

“You know what I mean,” he sighed. “Tell me you’re not going to do anything stupid.”

“What does it matter to you, Malfoy?” I spat, confusion overwhelming me.

That wasn’t how Malfoys acted. Sure I had seen Draco be friendly to the residents and get along with them well, but deep down I always thought it was some sort of ploy. Maybe he was trying to act reformed so he could be discharged from the crazy house instead of having to escape. Maybe he was trying to undo some of the damage done to the Malfoy name by his parents. But I certainly never thought he was being genuine.

Yet there he sat in front of me, his brow furrowed, a look of worry painted across his angelic face.

“You’re right,” he breathed. “It shouldn’t matter. It’s your life, you can do with it as you see fit.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, not truly believing my own words.

I shifted nervously on the bench and began to absent-mindedly play with a loose thread on my shirt. The sudden silence was deafening. I looked up at Draco to try and say something to fill the awkward void, but no words would come out. Instead I just looked at him, watching as different emotions flitted across his perfect face. It looked like he was struggling internally with something, but what, I wasn't sure.

Perhaps he was thinking I shouldn't escape with him at all, that I was too crazy or too much of a liability. Or maybe he was thinking he would much rather escape with someone like Emerson, someone he would enjoy being on the run with. It was hard to know what he was thinking, but after a few moments of staring off in the distance, he seemed to make up his mind, and turned to face me again.

"Potter," he whispered as he leaned in closer to me. "If we're going to go through with this we have to make a deal, okay?"

"Uh, what kind of deal?" I asked leerily.

"Once we are out and safe, I want you to stay with me until you have a plan."

"I couldn't impose," I said, my cheeks turning pink.

"It's fine really, I already have a place lined up. You can just hang with me there until you figure out what you are going to do."

"I...I mean....why are you doing this?" I asked bewildered.

"Because, I have a bad feeling about you taking off with no plan and no place to go. I feel like you can't be trusted on you own and you might do something stupid. And besides," he said changing his voice to a slightly haughtier tone. "If you get caught, and with no plan you probably will, there is a good chance they will catch me too. And I can't afford that. So, do we have a deal Potter?"

Draco stuck his hand out in front of me, and I grabbed it, giving it an enthusiastic shake. "Deal."