✞ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒 ✞

ii

the week to follow wasn't any better. to be honest, the whole semester was absolute murder. the name-calling, the taunting, and the outright bullying hadn't stopped. so, draco took it upon himself to show potter exactly what he had caused. it was his fault that everyone thought he was a complete prat, so, he was going to make it so potter would feel a bit of the same sour emotions.

his mother wrote back to him that following week, though. sympathising, she made sure to send him homemade chocolates with the letter; of which read in summary: i love you, don't listen to them, stay safe. he sent her back a letter to thank her, and that he would keep her updated on all major events-and minor ones-that happened while he was away. he quite enjoyed writing to his mum, it gave him a sort of peace-it made him feel much less shit about the current situation he was in.

over the course of valentine's day weekend, draco had an urge to write harry an anonymous poem-or note, he wasn't really the best with poetry. and worse yet, he did. he didn't send it of course, as he found it much too embarrassing to ever let anyone see. he stuffed it in his box of 'secret stuff', which also contained: lofepramine, the letters from his mum, his journal, his favorite quill, the chocolates, and his necklace that he put in an even smaller box before he went to bed each night. all of these things he hoped no-one would find out about, so the box and its contents were kept under an invisibility spell at all times.

draco made it his life's goal to taunt potter and make him feel the exact same way. he felt as though it was quite petty, but then again his urge to make himself better than the other houses proved greater than his conscience. he called him names, told him how stupid people were for liking him and that he, in fact, was nothing to be gloated over. harry never responded much to these comments, which draco found quite offensive. he learned that getting a proper reaction out of potter would be a lot harder than draco liked, but he had the patients for it. his desire for potter to be mad at him-to be upset with-was so much stronger than anything he had ever felt before. sometimes harry would roll his eyes, sometimes he'd make some quirky face or call him out, but never-absolutely never-had he actually said something to him in retaliation. but he was bound to, right? how long can someone go while being constantly made to feel like lesser of a person before completely snapping?

draco had gone eleven years. and counting. maybe potter was stronger than he looked? maybe they had a lot more in common then draco wanted to admit.

"we're nothing alike!" he snapped at crabbe, bewildered he'd ever suggest such a thing. "he's a little, stupidly famous, glottouness prick. he lived with muggles his entire life, he's friends with that mudblood-" who draco really didn't mind, come to think of it. "and that filthy weasley." who he'd never actually met properly. "and he thinks he's so fucking great because what? he said some gibberish as an infant and voldemort went away?" he shouts, glaring at both of them trying to keep his eyes from watering. he could feel the burn of the salt in his eyes from the tears building up. he'd said his name, nothing could stop him now.

"alright mate, no need to get your panties in a twist." goyle frowns at him, stepping back as draco's face reddened.

"get my panties in a twist? get my panties in a fucking twist? honestly, goyle, do you have any bloody clue what you're on about? my father has been up my ass because of potter ever since voldemort left. you know what, fuck you. fuck both of you." draco says angrily, starting to walk back to his dorm. he stormed past potter, finding the worst time to let any noise out of his mouth; especially a distressed whimper.

"are you alright?" harry asks gently, draco freezing at the sound of his voice.

he lets out a shaky, sarcastic laugh. "do i look alright? do i look any fraction of the tormenting word?" he throws his hands up, whipping around to face the other boy. his face was red and blotchy, tears streaming steadily as he frantically tried to wipe them away.

"do you wanna come to the bathroom with me?" harry mumbles, taking a few steps towards draco who immediately backed away. "just," he lets out a soft sigh. "come with me, okay?"

draco nodded meekly, following harry to the bathroom.

"what do you want, potter? gonna tell your gaggle about how you caught me crying?" draco sniffs, hugging his knees to his chest with his back pressed against the cold wall.

"no. i just wanna know what happened." harry says softly, sitting across from him. he looked thoughtful, intuitive, gentle, and willing to listen. he made draco feel better, he made him feel calmer and have more coherent thoughts. fuck, draco hated to think. he knew he was in his head too much but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"i think i forgot to take my-" he stopped himself. he wasn't going to tell harry about anything in his secret box. harry didn't deserve to know. "nevermind."

"i won't tell anyone you're on medication, draco. it's nothing to be ashamed of, either." harry says, his first name sounding pleasant in his mouth.

"do you really want to know, then?" he raises an eyebrow at harry as he stared into the soft blue. draco's eyes were filled with hate, sadness, love. looking into them, harry felt as if he would drown trying to decipher everything going on inside of them. harry only nods though, giving draco the air to speak. "i take lofepramine. it's some stupid drug to help my serotonin or whatever. don't go looking into it, and don't tell that bloody granger anything about it. she'd probably show up at my door with a list of its ingredients and all the side effects it has." he mumbles, looking at his hands and how they trembled ever so slightly.

"is that an antidepressant? draco are you depressed?" harry asks, his voice laced with shock.

"i don't want to talk about it." he whispers.

"i'll listen whenever you're ready." harry replies.