iris | drarry

chapter 3

The next couple of days passed by Harry in a blur. He went to classes and attempted to pay attention, but overall, nothing ended up sinking in. He had tried to stop taking the pills, realizing how out-of-touch with reality they were making him, but every time he would end up having a panic attack or a nightmare, not to mention a horrible headache and chills. 

Hermione had tried to talk to him multiple times, telling him she didn't care how mean he was, that she was worried. He continued to snap at her, though, telling her he was fine and that he just wished she would have listened when he said he needed more of that calming drought. He was more mean than necessary, but he didn't really realize or care. 

He didn't seem to care about much these past couple of days. He barely went down to the dining hall, and when he did he mostly stared off into space, poking at his food. He hadn't had much of an appetite since returning to school. 

It all came to a head yesterday, however, when Hermione had become extra pushy while walking to class.

"Harry, what is wrong with you? Did you make the potion yourself or something? You're so out of it, and you're irritable, and-" 

"And what, Hermione? God, why can't you just shove off and leave me the bloody hell alone? Are you capable of doing that for once in your life?" Harry snapped, cutting Hermione off. 

This, of course, made Ron extremely angry.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Ron spat, pushing Harry backwards a bit, causing him to stumble. The room spun a bit, causing him to chuckle softly. 

"Nothing, I just don't care to be friends with selfish people," Harry hissed. "She needs to learn how to stop shoving her nose in my business, god knows that's what she does best-"

He was cut off by Ron's fist connecting with his face.

Harry sat up in bed, dragging a hand down his face with a groan. After his fight with Ron, he had gone up to bed, passing out immediately. He looked down to see he was still dressed in the same robes, even his shoes still on. He glanced around, seeing the room practically deserted. Taking a look at the clock, he swore, realizing it was already breakfast time. 

He stood from the bed, clutching his face at the throbbing pain that lingered there. He stumbled over to the bathroom, walking in and facing the mirror. His hair was a mess, but that was the least of it. His cheek was bruised heavily, the side of his lip split. There was dried blood trailing from his lip to the side of his face, no doubt having dried that way over night. It looked like his glasses were still intact though, so that was a plus. 

He stared at himself in the mirror for a few moments, running his fingers delicately over his split lip. Something about the pain was... distracting. It was a weird feeling, but it was almost dulling, like the pills he had been taking were.

He snapped out of his trance, quickly splashing some water on his face to wipe the blood off before going back into the room. He grabbed his bag, about to head out of the room when he stopped, glancing over his shoulder at his nightstand. 

You shouldn't, he told himself.

Maybe you should, the voice in his head drawled. Otherwise you're gonna feel so much pain today...

Maybe you'll watch Sirius die again. Or see Fred's lifeless face. Maybe you'll think about Teddy, how it's your fault that he is in the same orphan club you are-

He dropped his bag, looking around to make sure no one was there before walking briskly over to his nightstand, opening the drawer. He reached his arm up to underside of the tabletop, feeling the little plastic bag taped there. He took it down, grabbing two pills before putting the bag back. 

He popped one in his mouth, the other he placed in his bag for later. After closing the drawer, he stood up again, picking up his bag. He took a sigh of relief as the voice in his head started to quiet, Harry feeling his heartbeat return to the slow, steady pace he'd come to love.

He walked over to the door and was just about to open it when it opened from the outside, Harry's hand still outreached towards the doorknob. 

The door opened to reveal Malfoy, who smirked at the sight of him. "Well, don't you look like shit," he chuckled, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him, standing between Harry and the exit. 

"Come on, Malfoy I have places to be," Harry snapped, giving him a deep glare.

Malfoy put his hands up in innocence. "Woah, woah, Potter, I'm not Granger or Weasley, don't take your shit out on me," he drawled, tilting his head as he inspected Harry's face. "He got you good, didn't he? Didn't think the weasel had it in him."

"Fuck off," Harry huffed, trying to push past Malfoy to the door. He reached for the handle, almost getting his hand around it before he felt a hand wrapped around his other arm. He was suddenly being pulled backward, his back slamming into the wall behind him. He let out a groan as pain traveled through his body.

Malfoy towered over him, his large hand then wrapping around his throat, pushing him back further against the wall. The room spun, the drugs in his empty stomach starting to take effect, his vision blurring slightly before focusing on the male in front of him. 

"Now, now, Potter, that's not very nice," he cooed. "What happened to the Golden Boy, huh? Didn't feel like putting up with that shit anymore?" Harry struggled against Malfoy's grasp, gasping for air in his lungs. 

The sensation he was feeling was... weird. He hated Malfoy and what he was doing, but the feeling of pain, of adrenaline rushing through his body, it was unmatched. He found himself not fighting it as much, realizing he didn't care much what happened at this point. 

"Wow, Potter, you're fucked up, aren't you?" Malfoy laughed with an impressed expression as he realized the boy's struggle was feeble. He leaned in a bit, looking at Harry's eyes before whistling softly. "No, you're like- actually fucked up right now. Huh, never would have pegged you for the party type."

"Fuck... off.." he managed to get out between breaths. Malfoy removed his hand, allowing Harry to drop slightly as Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest. Harry gasped for breath, his hands on his knees as he breathed in and out quickly, coughing a couple of times.

Malfoy shook his head, smirking. "You know, I think I am actually starting to hate you slightly less now, Potter. I like this new you, the whole 'I hate everything, everyone fuck off' vibe. I think that this could be the start of something really... special," he said, his words dripping with sarcasm and glib. 

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, panting heavily still. He rubbed his throat, standing up and looking towards the door, desperate to leave. Malfoy leaned forward to cut him off, placing a hand on the wall beside his head, his face a couple of inches from Harry's.

"Well, now that you're a big party guy, guess you're going tonight, right? I heard there's going to be... all sorts of things there," he murmured. Harry honestly had no idea what party he was talking about, but the sound of 'all sorts of things' was... enticing. If there was anything that could make him feel better, he knew it was drugs. He looked back toward the door, not wanting Malfoy to be able to read his expression.

A hand grabbed his chin, forcing his head to tilt back toward Malfoy as he leaned in, whispering in Harry's ear.

"Don't worry, I won't let the world know you hate it as much as I do."

With that, Malfoy pushed off the wall and strode off, opening the bedroom door to leave. "See you tonight!" he sung over his shoulder, Harry catching his devilish expression as he waved, closing the door behind him.