Beautiful Shards (A Drarry Fanfic)

Chapter 32: Injuries and Apologies

  Draco made it two whole weeks. During that time, McGonagall's advice barely left his mind, but he internally debated whether he should follow it or not. There was still too much uncertainty.
  For those weeks he also avoided Harry as much as possible and continued to attend nightly meetings with Will in the Room of Requirements. Each day Will got progressively more violent, and he seemed to take immense pleasure from it. If Draco didn't talk, he got hurt. If he talked, no matter what he said, it was somehow always the wrong thing, and he got hurt. There was no winning.
  At first Will was careful, leaving marks and bruises only in places that wouldn't be seen, but after about a week it became more obvious. It started as a bruise here, a scrape there, but those quickly became black eyes, sprained ankles, bruised ribs, concussions. Draco usually tried to glamour the injuries or hide them under clothes, but he saw the worried glance Harry shot him one morning. He'd fallen asleep as soon as he got back to the dorm the night before, forgetting to cover the bruise on his cheek. He was more careful after that.
  For the first few days, Harry was persistent, trying to engage Draco in conversations, trying to see if he was alright, trying to understand why he wasn't talking to him. At one point he tried to convince Draco to go to the hospital wing after he got dizzy and blacked out, even though it was only for a few seconds. Draco had just shaken his head and hurried away, leaving Harry staring concernedly after him.
  Eventually, Harry withdrew too, giving up, and as relieved as Draco was, he couldn't help the pang of loneliness and guilt that came when he saw how upset the other was.
  Evenings became silent, each working on their homework before climbing into bed and reading or doing something else to occupy themselves. Draco stopped going to meals entirely, only dropping by the Great Hall every now and then for a piece of toast or a salad or some fruit. Neither boy wore short sleeves anymore.
  One night Draco had gone into the bathroom and taken Harry's blades from their not-so-secret hiding spot in a little box in the cabinet, thinking he could protect Harry in this little way, but when he'd checked again the next day they'd been replaced and the box had been magically sealed (he tried Alohomora. It didn't work).
  Draco continued slipping Harry Dreamless Sleep potions each night to ensure he wouldn't wake up while Draco was gone, but he only had so many vials. He knew he was going to run out eventually, and that point had finally come. He dug around at the bottom of his trunk, but his efforts were fruitless. There weren't even dregs left in the vials he'd already used. All he could do was slip out and pray to anyone listening that Harry wouldn't wake up.
  Potion hunting had delayed him for a few minutes, and when Draco arrived, out of breath, in the RoR, Will was already waiting for him, a menacing smirk playing across his lips.
  The room was the same as it had been the first time, the same as it was every night after. The same pillars stretched to the ceiling and the moonlight still pooled in the same spot on the floor, coming from the high window.
  "You're late. Again." Will's excitement was as clear as his anger, and Draco shrunk back a bit. "What did I tell you about being late?" Will stalked towards him and, as always, Draco cast his eyes downward. When Draco didn't reply, Will's eyes sparked. "I asked you a question."
  Draco knew what was coming, and talking or not talking wasn't going to change it, so he stayed silent. Will paused, then burst into motion, shoving the blond roughly against the wall, capturing his wrists in a bruising grip. It was the about the same every night— Draco showed up, Will found a reason, any reason, to get angry, then Draco ended up against a wall or a pillar or on the floor, then Will would throw him around until he got bored, then leave. Knowing what came next didn't make it any better though.
  "I'll ask again. What did I tell you about being late?"
  "That there would- there would be consequences." He sounded as small and weak as he felt. Squirming, he tried to free himself from Will's grasp, but stilled when Will only tightened his hold in response.
  "But you still couldn't be bothered to show up on time." With that, Will spun Draco around, twisting one arm behind his back. Draco whimpered. "Better things to do, Draco?"
  "N-no. No!" Facing forward once again, Draco cried out as he was slammed against the wall.
  Things escalated quickly from there, and by the end of it, Draco was kneeling on the floor, blood trickling from a cut above his eye, bruises just beginning to form along his arms and torso, ribs aching and likely bruised or broken, spitting blood onto the floor.
  "My my," said Will, "aren't you a masterpiece?" He knelt down in front of the smaller boy and tilted his chin up with an unfamiliar tenderness that made Draco shiver. Hair had fallen into his eyes and he gazed up though it into Will's face, though not his eyes. His expression held none of the malice that it usually did, and Draco was struck by the very unwelcome thought that Will was beautiful when he wasn't being cruel.
  "You look perfect like this, Draco," breathed Will. Draco's eyes were wide and frightened and confused as Will raised a hand and brushed the pale strands of Draco's hair away from his face, his fingers lingering, then rose and slipped out the door.
  Still kneeling on the ground, Draco played the past minute over and over in his head. Will had never gone quite this far before, so Draco decided his strange display of kindness had to be a sort of apology just to make sure he showed up tomorrow. Honestly, Will being gentle was almost more terrifying than Will when he was angry.

It took a lot longer to get back to his room than it usually did. It felt hard to breathe, and everything seemed to ache or sting or throb. When Draco finally reached his door he did his best to enter quietly, hoping desperately that Harry had stayed asleep. Unfortunately, luck had never been on his side.
  When the door opened, Draco was met with a warm yellow light illuminating the room and Harry sitting one the end of his bed, facing the doorway. Then Harry spoke to him for the first time in over a week.
  "Bloody hell, Draco."