Harry Potter Preferences

34: He Finds Out You Self Harm

TRIGGER WARNING: If you're easily triggered please, please, PLEASE (with a cherry on top) refrain from reading this because I care if you hurt yourself and I WILL NOT STAND FOR BEAUTIFUL PPL HURTING THEMSELVES! 

Requested by: Wizardshadhunter and -_mrs_irwin_- thanks for requesting you beautiful people!

H A R R Y: You were done. You didn't know how to describe it. It wasn't like a sadness, because you didn't feel sad. You didn't feel anything at all. Emptiness. That was the word you were looking for. You had thrown your razors away a long time ago, saying that you'd never do it again. Maybe just a few cuts, to remind me I can still feel, you thought to yourself. You always kept an extra razor, just in case. You rummaged through your things for it. When you found it you locked the door and ran the razor across your wrist. You cried a little bit, but for the most part, you were enjoying the temporary relief from the inhuman emptiness. "Y/n! Y/n!" You heard someone call out from outside of the door. "Um...just a second," you yelled. Harry could hear it in your voice. The hurt. "Y/n Y/l/n open this door right now," he demanded. "I said just a second," you yelled, trying to clean the blood. "Alohomora," Harry muttered and the door unlocked with a click and swung open. "No no no no no," he said and helped you clean up the blood. He pulled you into his arms and every time you would try to speak he would shush you with a kiss and if you tried to move out of his arms he'd pull you closer to him. He couldn't let his baby hurt herself again.

R O N: The taunting and the bullying was getting to you. You had never cut before but you had considered it. Now, you thought, would be the perfect time. You found a shower razor and quickly removed the razor from it. It was sharp and shiny. You pressed it to your wrist and hissed out in pain as it stung your flesh. You closed your eyes and thought about all the names and all the jokes. You began to cry and it was easier to make the red marks on your skin because no physical pain could compare to what you were feeling inside. There was tears mixed with blood and everything seemed like it hurt. "Y/n? Are you crying Sweetheart?" you heard Ron's voice, muffled by the door. "I'm fine babe," you said and hurriedly threw the razor under the bed and covered your arm with a jacket. You cleared your throat. "Come in," you called out. Ron opened the door. "Baby you look like you've been crying. Are you sure that you're okay?" he asked. "I-I'm fine," you stuttered. Ron's eyes went wide. It was a few seconds until you realized what he was looking at. The blood was seeping through the jacket. "Oh Y/n. Why?" he asked. Rushing over to you. "B-bullies," you said. "I swear I won't let them near you again, just don't do this Sweetheart, okay?" he said shakily. You nodded.

D R A C O: The cuts you had given yourself the night before were freshly bright red on your forearm. This wasn't much of a problem because your Hoagwarts uniform covered the wrists so you weren't too worried about it. You saw Draco and he smiled brightly at you. "Hey Angel," he greeted. "Hi Drac," you said. Later, after all your classes, you were chilling with Draco in the library, finishing up some of your homework. Your best friend, Harry burst into the library and rushed to you. "Y/n. I need to show you something," he whispered urgently. He gripped your wrist and pulled you out of the library. But Draco saw your wince of pain when he hadn't even grabbed your arm that roughly. When you got back from your mini-adventure with Harry, Draco was ready to interrogate you. Before you could even greet him he fired his first question. "Why did it hurt so bad when Harry grabbed your wrist?" he asked. "Um...it didn't," you said. "Oh please Y/n. Why did you wince then?" he asked. "I-I um...I..." you trailed off, unable to answer the question. He moved toward you and grabbed your hand. Then he slowly moved his hand up to your wrist, where he carefully lifted your sleeve. What he saw broke his heart. "Sunshine, why would you do this?" he asked, his voice cracking. You shrugged. He pulled you into his arms. "I'll protect you from anything. Even yourself," he promised. It just hurt that his bright little light could do such a thing to herself.

F R E D: One. Two. Three. You counted the  cuts in your head. You added one, not shedding a tear. You wish you could. But you felt nothing inside. Your only comforting thought that you had was that you still bled red blood. There was a knock at the door. "Babygirl are you in there?" you heard, your boyfriend, Fred call from outside. "Um yes," you replied. Even though you weren't sobbing, Fred could tell that there was something wrong. Your voice sounded somewhat broken. "Somethings wrong. I'm coming in," he announced. "Alohomora," you heard. You didn't have any time to react and panic rose inside of you. The door swung open and Fred's expression changed from worried to horrified. He quickly helped you clean up the blood that painted your skin. After you were all cleaned up he settled and pulled you into his lap. "Okay. Let's hear it. Why the hell would you try to ruin my precious treasure like that?" he asked angrily. "I just. I need help. I feel like I'm drowning," you tried to explain. You felt actual sadness then. But it quickly turned to happiness. You had just felt something. You buried your head in Fred's chest. "I can help you. I promise," he said, rocking you back and forth on his lap.

G E O R G E: You'd cut before and George knows it. He always asked if you were okay and made random check ups on your wrist to make sure that there were no new scars. "Hello my beautiful girl," he greeted you and enveloped you into a warm hug. "Hello," you said quietly. You were just hoping that George wouldn't check your wrists today because if he did, he may or may not find some new bright red marks. But, unfortunately for you, George could sense something off about your attitude and your tone. "Come here," he said softly. You walked over to him, afraid of what would happen next. He gently lifted up your sleeve to reveal the new marks. "I'm sorry," you whispered, tears forming in your eyes. To your surprise, George didn't get angry at you, he instead scooped you up bridal style and sat down with you on his lap. "I still don't understand why you do this to yourself. I guess it's hard because you are and always have been so perfect to me and I don't understand where you're getting all this self hatred because I look at you and I literally cannot find a single flaw. You're my everything and I can't stand to see you doing this to yourself because I love you and I need you," George said. "I love you too," you said back. 

N E V I L L E: You dragged the cold razor across your skin. You weren't sure what it was that you hated so much about yourself, but it was tearing at you. You thought of it like this. You were like a piece of wood. If you put too much weight on it, it will snap. And that's exactly what you were doing snapping. You pressed the razor even deeper into your skin as you thought about everything that you thought was imperfect about yourself. You figured that you deserved it. You weren't sure how, but you forgot to lock the door and your unsuspecting boyfriend, Neville walked into the room. He gasped when he saw what a bloody mess you were. You were crying as Neville quickly cleaned up all the blood. You dropped the razor in your state on panic and Neville picked it up off of the floor. He lifted his own sleeve up and handed you the razor. "Cut me," he said. "What?" you asked. "You heard me Princess. I said cut me," he said in a soft, hurt tone. "N-no I could never h-hurt you like that," you said, horrified by his awful request. "Nothing can compare to the hurt that I already feel because my Princess doesn't see what I see," Neville said. "What is th-that?" you asked. "Perfection," Neville replied. "I-I'm not perfect," you cried. "I don't voice my opinion too often love. But trust me on this. You're perfect to me." (A/N: This isn't my idea. I forgot where but I read this somewhere else. I just wrote it in my own words and with Neville. So creds to whoever you are)

O L I V E R: A lot of people didn't like you just because you were different from them. Instead of spending your whole day fawning over boys or looking into the best love potions money can buy, you'd rather be on the Quidditch pitch. They said awful things behind your back and spread nasty rumors about you that were completely untrue. And you were sick of it. There were old cuts all over your arm and you were absolutely ready to add new ones to the collection. Right in the middle of a cut, you heard somebody walk in. Why hadn't you locked the door? "Y/n?" a rather broken voice asked from behind you. You recognized the voice as none other than your boyfriend, Oliver Wood. "Wh-what's going on?" he asked shakily. You didn't answer, just continued to sob. "I'm sorry," you sniffled. "Baby it's okay. I've got you," he cooed gently as he held you in his arms. He was extremely gentle with you, as if he was afraid you'd break. "Tell me who did it. I'll kill them," he growled. Typical Oliver.

(A/N: K I'm in a hurry I'll fix any typos later. Hope You liked this! Oh and I wanted to say, if anyone is going through a tough time just shoot me a message and we can talk. We don't necessarily have to talk about whatever it is you're dealing with but we can just chill and talk about Harry Potter or whatever. I'm hella chill so we can talk about whatever. I know sometimes people just want to feel a little less alone :))