The eighth years

11

AN; abuse (not from draco guys calm down), mentions of rape, self-harm and homophobic remarks WARNING BAD

Harry pov

I slowly removed my hoodie, wishing that I had said no. But I knew Draco wouldn't laugh, so I guess it's okay.

My arms went over my head to pull off my hoodie.  My undershirt rode up. I knew what was there. Fuck.

Once I had my hoodie completely off, Dray circled me, observing my scars and cuts and bruises. He saw "faggot" carved on my shoulder,  he saw bruises on my biceps. He had seen "freak" and "slut" on my stomach.  He saw a few tips of scars poking out of the back of my shirt. I held my arms close to me so he couldn't see them, but he pulled one away from me anyway.

He stared at the scars littering my forearms. He looked at me, his eyes moist.

"W-who? Why? Who did this, Harry?" He asked, his voice fragile and soft.

"Those are mine, but the rest are from my uncle" I hated telling him. I hate it so much.

"Harry, what all has he done to you?"

**flashback**

I screamed, and automatically regretted it.

"You like that, faggot?" Uncle Vernon sneared as I bit a pillow. " I'll show you how much of a freak you are, fag!"

He flipped me over onto my stomach, taking my hands and tying them to the bed. He ripped my shirt off, along with my pants and boxers. He took off his belt.

"How many today, freak?  How about twenty? " And so, twenty lashes came down apon me. After he was done with that, he grabbed one of his knifes.

"What tattoo today?" I could tell he was smiling. "How about 'slut' right here?" He traced right along my thigh.

He carved in a crude font 'slut' and 'fag' on my thighs. I heard him drop his pants. No.

He forced his way inside me, unlubed, until I passed out.

I woke up to a bleeding arsehole and a stinging thigh. I had to get up and clean it up before he came back...

*flashback over*

I started to cry before I could tell Draco anything. He seemed to understand it hurt me to talk about, so he just sat there and held me until I could speak again.