A/N: Takes place after the war, slightly AU (Snape's still alive). Reviews welcome and encouraged, even flames. Hope you like. Unbeta-ed, point out my mistakes and all that...

Pairing: HPDM

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just disregard the big red sign that says "Do Not Touch Characters"

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of self-injury, m/m slash (don't like, don't read), lots of angst, language, and I might possibly get into some other questionable areas. This story is not really for those with a squickable stomach.

Chapter 1 – Caught

Draco Malfoy stood in front of the mirror in the second floor bathroom, his eyes full of hatred as he stared at his own reflection. This emotion only became stronger as he watched his silver orbs begin to swirl with blue tears. The blond tore his gaze away. "Malfoy's don't cry," he whispered unconvincingly, just as a tear made its way down his cheek.

"Oh, fuck me," he said desperately. Draco glanced once more at his tear-stained face before opening his bag and locating his potions kit within. He dug through all his little vials of beetle eyes and newts' tails until he finally found what he was looking for. Sinking to the floor, the teen rolled up the left sleeve of his robe to reveal the perfect paleness of his slender forearm. A quick wave of his wand washed away the illusion, revealing angry red lines etched over a latticework of pale scars. He placed the pristine razor on a patch of skin yet unblemished and pushed down as he dragged it across.

The pain gave him clarity, the self-loathing thoughts swept away as beads of red pushed to the surface of his skin. But it still wasn't enough; Draco knew he had only moments before his feelings returned. So he placed the razor against his skin and cut again. He repeated this ten times in total, until the pain was so great that he could not possibly think of anything else. Finally he dropped the blood-stained metal; the tears flowed freely now, but the pale teen didn't notice. Nothing could affect him now…well, almost nothing.

"Malfoy?!" called out a voice. Draco looked up at the figure standing in the doorway and sprang into action, yanking his sleeve down and rushing out of the bathroom. In his hurry, he forgot about the shiny object lying next to him on the tiled floor. A minute after Draco exited the bathroom, Harry Potter strode across the floor and picked up the razor, still glistening red. Realization dawned on him, and without thinking, he turned to chase after the blond.

"Snake skin," said Draco frantically to the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, terrified at what had just happened and wanting more than anything to retreat to the safety of his dormitory. 'Why was I so careless?' thought Draco, 'I couldn't have just remembered to use a locking ward?'

Slytherin's portrait was less than understanding of his situation. "Sorry, that's not the right password," he stated passively.

"What?! No, I need to get into the dungeons now!" exclaimed Draco. He was almost hysterical, but portrait-Slytherin took it as a personal attack.

"Well I'm sorry, I was going to give you another try at it but since you yelled at me…I think I'll go visit the fat lady for a spot of tea and crumpets." With that the dark-haired man disappeared, leaving Draco to deal with a very awkward situation.

The blond teen's heart filled with dread as he felt the tap on his shoulder. "Malfoy?" said Harry tentatively. Draco took a deep breath, trying his best to compose himself before turning to face his rival, prepared for the disgust and criticism he was sure he would receive. What he was not prepared for was the genuine concern and confusion he saw in Harry's face as he made eye contact.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco tried to pour as much malice as he could into those five words, but there was no energy in it and Harry saw right through him.

"I think you know, Malfoy. And…I know we're supposed to hate each other, but I can't just ignore what I saw." Harry looked extremely conflicted. On the one hand, this was Draco Malfoy: the sneering ice prince of Slytherin. He was arrogant, cruel, and bound to be Harry's enemy for all eternity. On the other, the boy Harry had seen bleeding on the bathroom floor looked so miserable and helpless that Harry could not bear to leave the matter alone.

"And what exactly do you think you saw, Potter?" the blond spat back at him. 'I'm not admitting anything, no matter how much I want to let him help.' Draco almost gasped aloud 'Whoa, where did that thought come from? H-…I mean Potter…is the enemy, I don't want anything to do with him…and I definitely don't need help,' thought Draco.

"Don't try to play dumb with me Malfoy, as if me seeing wasn't enough, I found your razor on the floor after you pushed past me." Harry pulled the sharp object out of his pocket and held it up to Draco, who mentally smacked himself for being so reckless.

"Give that back to me, I need it…for potions…" said Draco, realizing how pathetic his thin excuse sounded.

"I can't do that Malfoy, especially if you can't even admit why you really want it." Harry looked at Draco with a sad expression.

Draco fidgeted for a second before finally giving up his ruse. "Well what the bloody hell do you want me to say, Potter? I need my razor back because I need it to…to…"

"To what, Malfoy?" asked Harry quietly. He was trying his hardest not to seem threatening; from the moment he had picked up the razor he knew he had to help Draco somehow, and he did not want to upset him more than he had to.

"To cut myself with ok?! Is that what you want to hear?" Draco was near tears again and it was taking an extreme effort for him to contain his emotions. "So what now, Potter? You know my deepest darkest secret, go off and tell all your little friends and just leave me alone! Why should you even care?"

Harry sighed. Part of him wanted to just give up and go back to Gryffindor tower, but the little voice that was his conscience would not let him. "Malfoy, this can't go on. You have to talk to someone about whatever's going on, you can't just cut yourself to make things go away…it doesn't work. Now, people tell me I'm a good listener, and I'm willing to be there for you…if you want. But if you don't want to talk to me then I have to tell someone…"

The blond teen couldn't have been more shocked if Harry had told him he wanted to go hunt Muggles. He realized that his mouth was slightly open and berated himself, 'Malfoy's never show surprise!' Once his mask was back in place he responded, "Potter, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I would appreciate it if you would just mind your own business. I refuse to be another one of your little 'savior' projects. Gotten bored now that Voldemort's gone, have you?" Secretly he was relieved when Harry did not let the subject go.

"Malfoy, come on. You know full well that's not what this is. Now, as much as I don't want to, I guess I'll have to talk to Snape about this if you aren't going to let me help." Harry frowned as the ice prince's face went even paler.

"Potter…my godfather is part of the reason I c-…do this to myself…he can't know about it." Draco looked at Harry with desperation in his eyes. "What do you want from me?"

"Well, how about we go get our brooms, and we can fly somewhere private and talk about it?" Harry tried his best to look reassuring. Draco thought this over and decided it might be worth it if he could get Harry off his back. 'Well, lucky my broom's out in the Quidditch shed and not my dormitory,' he thought. 'Sodding portrait, I swear I'll hex him back to his own time period the next time I see him.'

Harry accompanied Draco out to the sheds to retrieve his Nimbus 2001, pulling his own miniaturized firebolt from his pocket and waving his wand to reenlarge it. "Where are we going?" asked Draco as he mounted his broom.

"Oh, you'll see," replied Harry before taking off with a mischievious look on his face. Draco kicked off and followed the dark-haired teen into the air. They flew for about twenty minutes before reaching their destination. As they soared through the sky, Draco felt the blood drying on his arm and grew a bit anxious. Normally he liked to clean off his arm after he cut; it made him feel like he had some control of the situation.

Harry and Draco touched down in a vast meadow surrounded by grassy foothills. A small stream cut through the middle and there were a few mossy boulders scattered on the soft grass. Harry waved his wand over one of these boulders and it was instantly transfigured into a big red couch. He sat down on the left side of the sofa and patted the seat next to him. Draco sighed and joined Harry on the couch, sitting as straight as possible, determined not to be comfortable.

"So," said Harry, "would it be too much if I asked to see your arm?" Draco stiffened instantly and refused to look Harry in the eye. He drew his left arm protectively towards his body. "I'm not going to judge you, Draco, I just want to help." Harry purposefully used Draco's given name, a fact that did not escape the blond's notice.

'I know I'm going to regret this,' thought Draco. Reluctantly, he pulled his arm away from his body, rolled up the sleeve and held it out for Harry to examine. Harry looked at the dried blood on Draco's arm and conjured a wet cloth.

"May I?" he asked. Draco nodded and Harry began to gently clean off the teen's thin arm. Draco had never shared this secret with anyone before, not even his closest friend, Pansy Parkinson. So to be sitting there with his sworn enemy tending to his injuries proved more than a little overwhelming. His lip began to quiver without his consent.
"What's wrong, am I hurting you?" Harry asked, alarmed. He started to pull the cloth away but Draco shook his head.

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I do this." Draco risked a glance into Harry's eyes. The compassion and pure good he saw in them made the blond look down, ashamed. When Harry saw this he reached out a hand and pulled Draco's chin up so that their eyes met once again.

"It's ok. You don't have to go through this alone any more."

So that's it for chapter one, hope you liked it. Sorry if you were disturbed, that was not my intention. I am looking for a beta, preferably one who won't be easily bothered by an extreme degree of angst. Review if you want me to post more, and suggestions are welcome because though I have a general idea of where the story's going, I'm not completely sure how to get there.

- xoxo fredmyfred