never let me go

lifeline

TW: panic attacks, self harm. 

//

Billie Eilish – when the party's over

"Let's just let it go

Let me let you go."

Draco hadn't told Harry about the attacks. They had happened a couple more times now, and each time the three Slytherins left him with a new bruise. He wanted to tell him, but he knew that if he did Harry would want to go all heroics and stop them, and Draco just didn't want to make it worse.

They had hit him with a jinx out of the blue on his way to the first class of the morning, and so when Draco arrived at Defence Against the Dark Arts he was already tense. He and Harry shared the class, and though Harry's other friends were in the class too, the two of them had a table together near the back. He had planned to head straight there, but when he entered he saw that the room had been rearranged so there was an open space in the middle.

"We'll be moving on from theoretical study this week to practical application," Aberforth Dumbledore was saying as Draco spotted Harry and moved to stand beside him.

"Hey," Harry whispered, and Draco whispered a hey back, but it must've sounded off because Harry frowned at him. "You okay?" Draco just nodded, not trusting his voice.

Draco wasn't paying too much attention to Dumbledore's rambling, but then he caught Harry's name.

"In fairness I think that Mr Potter would be better at performing some of these spells than I would," he was saying.

Harry scoffed, putting on a bit of bravado as he said, "Highly unlikely, Professor."

"Oh, I have to disagree, Mr Potter. You fought valiantly in many battles during the Second Wizarding War, most notable of course the Battle of Hogwarts. I'm sure there'd be a thing or two you could teach us."

Harry shifted on his feet a bit. "Not today Professor."

"Very well," Dumbledore said as he went on to explain the activities.

Harry gave Draco an incredulous look as if to say, what was that about? Draco only shrugged, but his mind was playing the words Dumbledore had said about the war on a loop.

Soon the class was set up with practice dummies for students to practice spells on, the kind of spells that you would use in a real fight if you wanted to stay alive. Harry and Draco were at the back of the group waiting for a turn, watching the bolts of colour from various spells hitting the dummies and sometimes blasting them away, or reducing them to dust. Dumbledore would simply wave his wand and the dummy would reappear good as new.

The sound gradually became deafening, and Draco couldn't help but flinch at some of the bangs. He noticed that Harry was watching him, and so he tried to take some deep breaths and calm down.

He tried closing his eyes rather than watching the students, but that just instantly made it worse as he was surrounded by the sounds, and suddenly he felt like he was back at the final battle. He was running for his life, not even sure what side he was on anymore, having narrowly escaped death and just wanting to get out, get out, get out.

Absentmindedly, he was aware he had started scratching at his arm through his sleeve, but he could barely feel it. In fact, his arms and legs were going tingly. All he could focus on was the sounds of the spells and the flashes of light from them, and Draco was sure that they were aimed at him.

Someone was calling his name, but it sounded like a distorted echo, and then there was a hand on his elbow pulling him away. He struggled against it, trying to claw it off, desperate to get away.

He realised he couldn't breathe properly, hadn't been breathing properly – or maybe he had been holding his breath the entire time. He tried to suck in rasping breaths, quicker and quicker, but it only made him more panicked.

He couldn't feel his arm anymore but he couldn't stop scratching, until strong hands suddenly pulled his hand away, and there was Harry in his face, telling him to breathe. He could only just hear his voice, as if it was travelling through a tunnel to reach him. Harry held onto his hands and Draco gripped back like he was lifeline, pulling him back.

Draco tried to follow what Harry was saying, gulping down huge breaths. Slowly, gradually, he found he could breathe normally again. He kept staring into Harry's eyes, focusing on the colour, the intensity, as he felt the sensation come back into his limbs and the feeling of danger melted away. He was safe. He was safe because he was with Harry.

"Hey, there you go," Harry was saying, his voice clear now. "You're okay, you're safe, just breathe..."

Draco gulped down a few more deep breaths, and then his shoulders collapsed in a sob, his head hanging forward. Harry moved to his side, putting one arm around him and pulling him close while the other still held onto Draco's hands. Draco realised that they were sitting against a wall in a deserted corridor, probably not far from the classroom.

"I didn't..." he sniffed, "I didn't make a scene, did I?"

"No, I saw you weren't okay and I got you out of there."

Draco gave Harry's hand a grateful squeeze. They sat there for several minutes, Harry holding Draco close, until his breathing completely evened out. Eventually he raised his head to look at Harry, and he found only warmth and caring in his face.

"Thank you," Draco said.

"Hey, we agreed we would pull each other back, right?"

Draco gave a small smile. Harry looked down at their intertwined hands.

"Draco... can I see your arm? You were scratching at it like crazy and I'm worried you might have opened up some of the cuts. I know you probably don't want to show me –"

Draco was already holding out his arm for Harry. He gave Draco a look of surprise at the trust he was showing him, before he took his arm and carefully and with the lightest touch, pulled up the sleeve. Draco saw him freeze at the sight of his arm, and he couldn't blame him. It was covered in horrendous scars, and he had indeed opened up a few so they were angry and red.

Harry ghosted his fingers over them, not actually touching, and sighed. "Oh, Draco."

Harry sounded like he was in pain just seeing what Draco had done to himself, and Draco wanted nothing more than to make that pain go away. But he could only watch as Harry took out his wand and performed a gentle healing spell, sealing the wounds closed and reducing the redness. When he was done, he kept holding onto his arm, and Draco could tell he wanted to say something.

"Why don't you heal them completely?"

"Because I want them to cover up the Dark Mark," Draco said. "That was why I started. I was trying to get rid of it. I even tried to burn it off, see that mark there?"

Draco pointed with his other hand to the spot on his wrist. Harry brushed a thumb over it, feather light. Draco looked up at him and saw that there was a tear running down Harry's cheek. Without thinking, he reached up and brushed it away, and his hand lingered on his cheek as Harry looked up and their eyes met. They were so close, their breaths mingling, and all Draco wanted to do was close the distance. But Harry shifted back slightly and looked away, and Draco let his hand fall.

He tried not to let his disappointment show as he watched Harry carefully roll his sleeve back down, and then he pulled them to their feet.

"Do you want to take the rest of the class off?" Harry asked. "I'm sure Dumbledore will understand."

"Yeah, that might be a good idea."

"Okay, I'll grab your stuff and come find you after class, yeah?"

Draco nodded, and gave Harry a tight smile as they parted ways. Draco wandered for a bit, not really sure where he was going, until he found himself back at the top of the Astronomy Tower. He took a seat on the edge with his legs dangling over and his arms resting on the lower railing, looking out over the castle and the lake beyond. He felt the wind on his face and tried to let his feelings for Harry be carried away with it. But he couldn't let them go.