chapter 12: Broken Whispers

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  Draco closed his eyes, letting the darkness engulf him. He slowly sunk down, deeper into the dark, cold water. As his body dropped further and further down into the murky water, and further away from the sunlight, his lips parted and he released the last, precious air bubbles he had left. His lungs burned. His head screamed.

Please, don't do this!

The voice was foreign and yet familiar, and yet why should Draco care? He was done! He was absolutely and forevermore done.

He was done with his life. He was dirty. He was filthy.

A terrible person who had done terrible things. He had no quality of life and deserved death. No one cared about him.

Would he really be that missed? If one day he just didn't come home to his Dormitory, would anyone honestly notice? Maybe, but maybe not. Draco was fading in and out of consciousness when something long and slimy wrapped around his torso, and he felt himself being thrown upward.

The giant squid at the bottom of the Lake had thrown Draco up to the shore, in an effort to save the student. He coughed up the nasty water and began shivering due to the immediate cold. He wanted to disappear. There was only two weeks left of school, before Thanksgiving break.

He knew what they said. He knew what other people always muttered, thinking he couldn't hear them.

"He's just a selfish daddy's boy."

"He's pathetic."

"Dumb blonde."

But... Draco wasn't. He wasn't selfish, was he? He wasn't pathetic. He wasn't dumb.

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If only he could see how... beautiful he was.

Not just physicality, but his spectacular brain. A beautiful face and an even more beautiful mind. Smart, funny, amazing, witty and handsome. And utterly oblivious.

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'But too far gone to bring back.'

He had a dirty little secret that no one knew about. No one but himself.

Draco Malfoy was a cutter, and in his mind, that made him selfish. That made him unworthy, when really, it made his life even more valuable.

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Harry decided to strut his stuff down by the Black Lake, where he knew Malfoy would be. He may or may not have stalked him on the Marauder's Map. That blonde had a hold over Harry, and it seemed he knew it. Potter had come to the conclusion that if he couldn't have the Slytherin, no one could.

'He's mine....' Submissive, and yet possessive, Potter began his search.

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Why, may you ask, did Draco never tell anyone about his depression? Because he knew no one would understand. Why would they?

In the blonde's adolescences, he would take his anger out on others. At age 13, he learned to take it out on himself.

He made sure no one would ever know what he did, by using the Glamour spell, to hide the scars. It was his cross to bare, as they say. No one needed to know.

Draco could already hear what the others would say if he ever asked for help.

"He cuts for attention."

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