Draco had brought Harry into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, but thankfully she didn't seem to be in at the moment. Someone had probably flushed her down the toilet again, Draco surmised wryly.

Being the son of a Death Eater had its certain advantages, Draco realized. He'd been exposed to a lot of the darker areas of life. He knew about horrible things. He hadn't lived in a bubble like some of the others. Death Eaters didn't believe that sheltering their children helped their children. If they didn't know about these things, how were they to be expected not to fall into them? Well, a lot of them did anyway, but it wasn't for ignorance at least. Knowledge was never a bad thing. Only what you could do with it could be good or bad.

It was also a good thing, Draco realized, that he could piece a sobbing person's story together. He was able to make connections Harry thought obvious, but weren't, since he could understand how Harry thought. But there were still things they needed to talk about.

"How in the world did you leave the chambers?" Draco asked as he brought Harry to a sink and turned on the water.

"I left," Harry said, shrugging.

"You mean...you just...walked out the door?" Draco responded. He began to cup water in his hand and pour it over Harry's bleeding wounds, washing them out.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, and then went silent. After a moment, he looked like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

"What?" Draco demanded, in a no-nonsense tone.

"I don't want to tell Professor Snape," Harry suddenly sobbed. "How can I? I can't. It's just - I can't."

"Yes you can, and you have to," Draco said, narrowing his eyes. He wasn't going to deal with Harry's problems alone. He knew he needed Uncle Severus' help, and he knew he needed Harry to be the one to own up for his own actions.

"No," Harry said. "I can't. It won't happen."

"Look, Harry," Draco said, stopping what he was doing and looking Harry in the eyes. "I don't know the spells to heal you and keep this from getting infected. You want to get an infection and bleed all over everything?" He watched Harry's eyes go wide. Well, he didn't like scaring Harry, but somehow, Draco thought that this might be the best way to deal with him. "I didn't think so," he continued. "Who knows the spells? Well, every teacher, and a lot of the upper years. But you don't want to go to any of the other teachers or the students, do you? So who does that leave?"

"Professor Snape," Harry mumbled.

"10 points to Slytherin," Draco muttered back, beginning to wash out Harry's wounds again.

"What?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Nothing," Draco said. "You going to tell him? For real, this time."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll tell him." Harry's eyes began to well up with tears.

"Oh, what's wrong now?" Draco sighed.

"I - I don't know," Harry said. "I don't know how to tell him."

"Let me guess - you don't know how to tell him, because you don't understand it yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know why you came up there to do it yourself. You felt terrible so you did. But you can't explain it to yourself. So how can you explain it to him?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry said.

"See? I know lots of things. Don't worry, I'm sure Uncle Severus will understand. I'm sure you don't have to explain everything." Draco had no idea of Severus' own difficulties, but he did know that his godfather had dealt with these sort of things before in other students.

"I don't understand something," Harry said suddenly.

"What don't you understand?" Draco said, pulling his own Slytherin scarf off his neck and wrapping it around Harry's arm.

"What are you doing?!" Harry exclaimed, pulling his arm back.

"I'm wrapping your arm so that you don't leave a trail of blood behind you and I get accused of murdering someone," Draco responded. "Give me your arm." Harry swallowed and nervously began to hold his arm out again.

"You can use my scarf," Harry responded, loosening it with his other hand.

"Don't be daft," Draco said. "Let me use mine." Before Harry could start objecting again, Draco started wrapping his scarf around Harry's arm. Tying a knot with the two ends, Draco looked at his make-shift bandage quite proudly. "There!" he exclaimed, smiling.

"Why?" Harry's gaze bored into Draco deeper than Draco would like to have admitted. The depth of the pain in Harry's eyes was astonishing. Draco realized that he was probably in over his head with Harry.

"Why what?" Draco replied.

"This," Harry said, gesturing to the scarf-bandage. "Why?"

"Because you were bleeding?" Draco suggested.

"But you said you know," Harry said, as though that were enough of an argument.

"Know what?" Draco asked, although he knew what Harry meant. He wanted to heard Harry call it abuse.

"Well, you know," Harry shrugged. "About my relatives." Draco inwardly sighed as Harry had avoided the dreaded word. Apparently he wasn't ready to face the idea that it was abuse.

"Yeah, I know," Draco said. "So what? Explain it to me."

"But - but - " Harry stammered. "You can't see?"

"Pretend I'm the stupidest, most oblivious person you've ever met, and I can't understand a thing unless you explain it to me," Draco suggested.

"I don't understand why you care!" Harry exploded suddenly, although he kept his voice quiet. "How can you care? I'm nothing! I'm a freak and fool. I'm sick and twisted. You're not, and why would you want to spend any effort on me? You can have better friends! Why bother?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Draco said. "Slow down. You're not any of those things. Got that? You've just had a really rough start at life, to put it mildly. How can someone not care? It'd take a pretty awful person not to care."

"But you can have any friends you want," Harry protested. "Why me?"

"Because - " Draco cut off trying to put his answer into words. "Well because you're - well, I guess..."

"See, you can even explain it!"

"Hey, give me a minute!" Draco protested hotly. "It's because I want to help you, alright? It's because, that by an accident of birth, it's you sitting in the corner, scared and cutting, instead of me. If I'd your stupid relatives, I'd probably be doing the same thing you are. So I'm going to see to it that you're taken care of. I wouldn't want to me the boy in the corner and have no one come to save me. Now, care to do something about it?" Draco put his hands on his hips and glared at Harry. Harry's eyes were big again, and he shook his head mutely. "Good. Now that we got that straightened out," Draco continued, relaxing his stance, and putting his hand on Harry's shoulder, noticing but ignoring the involuntary flinch, "let's get you back to your chambers."

Wordlessly, they walked together to their destination. Draco began to think. He really didn't have that period free. He was going to be in so much trouble with McGonnagall for missing Transfiguration. There was no way he was going to give an accounting to her about his actions that period, and he was going to lose a pile of house points for this. He really didn't care though. He could explain to his head of house easily enough, and this more important than house points. Housemates always came ahead of house points.

Well, he'd have probably been a few minutes late for Transfiguration anyway. He had wandered down into that forgotten hallway because of the Mirror. He'd found it on an exploring venture a few days ago, and he'd fallen under it's spell. He kept wanting to go back. He had a hard time keeping it out of his mind. Sitting in front of it was dangerous, he knew, but he still was bound to it. It was addictive, he thought. Like a drug. Just to go back and sit there, watching, even though he knew he shouldn't, even though he didn't really want to. But he did want to. Whatever.

What was a mirror like that doing where students could just find it anyway? Draco inwardly sneered at the person who had put it there. He knew it was a minor problem compared to problems like Harry's, but still, the Mirror was causing him problems in his life. What sort of a fool would put a thing like that in a school? It was dangerous to anyone who found it. And it was right there to be found, even if it was in a lost hallway. It was a good thing he'd been there that time at least. He'd found Harry and been able to help him. It made Draco feel rather warm and proud that he'd been able to do something good that day.

"I mean it, you know," Draco quietly said.

"What?" Harry inquired.

"That you're my friend," Draco said. "And that I really do care."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem."

"You don't think I'm - dirty or anything?"

"Heck, no," Draco said, taken aback. "You're perfectly fine. What's been done to you doesn't change who or what you are. Anyway, we're here," he said gesturing to his godfather's chambers. "You better be getting back. And so should I. My next class will be starting soon. I'll see about coming down tomorrow. It's Saturday, and well, I don't have any classes. And Uncle Severus did not ask me to come tomorrow either. I'm inviting myself over tomorrow." Harry smiled at him.

"Thanks." Draco nodded his acknowledgement.

"See you later," he said, and smiled at Harry in return, and turned down the hallway. Harry turned to the door and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. After all, it was locked, and he couldn't open it, either by magic or with a key. So, swallowing his fear and cursing himself for not foreseeing this very problem, he knocked on the door.

.oO-Oo.

It was getting late, and Nitty hadn't seen hide nor hair of Master Harry. She'd fixed a breakfast for him, and while he usually slept later than Master Severus did, he was up by this time every morning. She walked into Master Harry's bedroom, and found the bed unmade, and Master Harry not in it. His day clothes were gone, and his pajamas laid on the bed.

She rushed around the chambers, looking and calling for Master Harry. But there was no answer. Bordering on a panic attack, she popped out of the chambers and appeared outside the potions lab where she knew Master Severus was. She knocked on the door.

.oO-Oo.

Severus sat back, watching the seventh years making their potions. It was a small class, and they all knew what they were doing, so thankfully he could relax a little bit. He was tired, and he didn't want to have to pay attention. Of course, in the back of his mind, instinctively, he was watching for any disasters that would happen, and he was also prepared to deal with them should they occur.

He hated himself. Oh, goodness, did he hate himself! Unconsciously, his right hand moved to his left forearm. Just two more scars to add to the list of other injuries. He had a perfect record there of all his mistakes, all his failures. That was why he had healed himself with a simple spell or potion. He believed in the consequences of actions, and this, the lingering pain and threat of infection, was the consequences of his stupid actions the night before. His physical records of his mistakes on that forearm even included his Dark Mark.

He wondered what would happen if someone didn't have their left forearm. What if, accidentally of course, someone lost it? Would the Dark Lord still be able to control that person? Of course, Severus knew he would never take such an action against himself. He had to face the consequences of taking the Dark Mark, not sidestep them. He might have done something incredibly stupid the night before, and he might have cried like a child, but he was enough of a man to be able to deal with what happened after his mistakes. He could at least take some solace in that.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. With a noise of annoyance, Severus got up from his desk and walked over to the door. People knew better than to annoy him while he was teaching unless it was truly something of catastrophic proportions. As he opened the door, he didn't see anyone there.

"Master Severus!" a small voice called out, and he looked down at Nitty.

"See you don't blow anything up while I'm out for a moment," he snapped at his students. If Nitty was making an appearance at this time, then it was serious and he needed to speak to her. "What is it?" he asked when he had stepped out and closed the door.

"It's Master Harry, sir," Nitty explained quickly. "He's not there!"

"Not there?" Severus repeated.

"Yes, sir," Nitty confirmed. "He's missing, and I can't find him anywhere!"

"Blasted boy," Severus muttered under his breath. There was no way he was going to be able to go back to teaching classes now. "I'll be down there momentarily," he told Nitty. "Go back and wait to see if Harry comes back."

"Yes, sir," Nitty nodded and disappeared. Severus stalked back into his classroom, but didn't walk far from the doorway. He took out his wand and with a flick of his wrist, the potions the students had been working on disappeared.

"Class dismissed," Severus said, as though that were an explanation. Well, it was enough for his students, because they immediately began to pack up without question. Severus quickly spelled a message on the door, canceling the rest of his classes for the day. His students certainly wouldn't mind finding that note there, he thought. He'd just have to find a way to make up the work in another class.

Quickly, he made his way down to his chambers. He began a thorough search of them, looking for any clue as to where Harry might have gone. But he found none. It had been some time, stalking around his chambers. Then there was a quiet knock at the door. Severus' heart leaped into his mouth as he hoped that it was Harry at the door. It certainly wasn't a knock he knew, but then only Minerva or the Headmaster ever came to visit him here. Still trying to calm himself, he reached out and opened the door. There stood Harry.

"Hi," Harry murmured, lowering his head and looking up at him through lowered eyelashes.

"Harry," Severus breathed, more relieved than anything. "Don't do that to me again."

"Sorry, sir," Harry muttered.

"Harry, what happened?" Severus suddenly asked, catching sight of the make-shift scarf-bandage.

"Um..." Harry stalled. He pulled the ivory knife from his pocket and handed it to Severus, swallowing hard.

"Where did you get that?" Severus asked guardedly. He was appalled. How did Harry have his knife? He didn't want to think of what this meant. Harry had his knife, and his arm was clearly bandaged. Could he have - ? No.

"I found it in the bathroom." Severus wanted to - he didn't know what he wanted to do. Now that Harry brought it up, he remembered he hadn't put his knife away last night. His negligence had put Harry in danger. His stupid actions the night before had extended beyond himself, once again. Setting the knife aside, Severus reached his hand out to Harry.

"Let me see your arm," he said evenly. Harry hesitated for a moment, but then held his arm out. Severus knelt on one knee as he began to untie the crude knots. Unwrapping the scarf, Severus saw the three parallel cuts, not unlike his own from the previous night. Inwardly grimacing, he took out his wand.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, his voice suddenly panicked, as he pulled his arm away.

"I'm going to heal you," Severus said. There was no reason why Harry had to suffer for his mistakes, Severus reasoned, and so he would heal Harry's wounds. The boy had already suffered enough. Nothing he did would make Severus not heal him.

"I - Please don't," Harry said.

"And why not?" Severus asked, again taking hold of Harry's arm. He positioned the wand above the cuts, but didn't recite the spell, waiting for Harry's answer.

"Because I did it to myself, sir," Harry said. "And - and - " Harry's voice broke and he began to hitch his breaths. Tears began to run down his cheeks.

"And you think you should take the consequences because it was your own choice," Severus finished quietly. "Just let me heal you anyway," he said, still quiet. "You've suffered enough." He muttered a spell, and Harry's wounds knitted back together. Three small pink scars remained.

"I'm sorry," Harry muttered, looking at what remained of that morning's escapade.

"As well you should be," Severus replied. "Why did you do it?" Harry shrugged.

"You told me that you did it sometimes, and I thought it might help," Harry offered hopefully. Severus brought his hand to his forehead as he realized what he had done.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated, seeing Severus' dismay.

"I know you are," Severus said, trying to keep control of himself. "Fine," he said, becoming resolved. "I'll transfigure the knife into something else. That way, it won't be a temptation to you anymore." Or myself, he thought. In a moment, the knife had become a blank notebook. "Here," he said, handing Harry the book. "I want you to use this whenever you feel like you want to cut. Write out your feelings. Force yourself to put it into words."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, taking the book in his hands.

"I won't read it, I promise," Severus said, closing his hands over Harry's. "Unless you want me to."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. It was fitting, Severus thought, that the instrument Harry had used to harm himself should be the instrument that would help him through his depression.

"Every time you cut yourself, you let your uncle win," Severus continued. "Your uncle trained the ability to harm yourself into you, and now when you do it, you're letting what he did to you affect you now. Please, don't let your uncle win. You're in control of your actions. Make sure you are the winner now."

"Yes, sir."

"Whose scarf is this?" Severus asked, releasing Harry's hands, and picking up the forgotten scarf from the floor.

"Draco's," Harry replied.

"How did that happen?"

"Draco found me," Harry shrugged, "and he took me to a bathroom and cleaned the mess up." Harry was careful to leave out the bit about Dumbledore. It didn't seem right to tell him.

"So Draco knows," Severus said.

"Yes," Harry said. "He knows about everything."

"He does?" Severus said, arching an eyebrow. Of course, he, Severus, knew that Draco knew, but it wouldn't do to tell Harry that. Whatever Draco had said, it didn't seem that Harry was taking the news particularly hard.

"Yes, he does," Harry confirmed. "He said his father told him."

"I see," Severus said, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"He said his father could have found out through Ministry records," Harry continued.

"Yes, that's possible," Severus said. "Lucius Malfoy is a very influential figure at the Ministry and undoubtedly has access to countless documents."

"And Draco still helped me."

"Yes, I see that he did."

"But he knew."

"Yes, he did. Is there some connection between these two facts?"

"I just don't understand."

"You have two options, Harry," Severus said. "Either you can continue not understanding, or you can accept that what your relatives did has no baring on whether your friends will help you."Harry nodded.

"But Mr. Nott - "

"He has other issues with you," Severus dismissed. "It has nothing to do with your relatives."

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"You need to accept the fact that your past doesn't change who you are now," Severus said, almost wincing at his own words as he thought about applying them to himself. "You need to accept the fact that your friend won't reject you for it either. None of them will. But especially not Draco. He can see that you will be a very good friend. And Hermione, Neville, and Ron also probably see it as well. You will be the best friend that any of them can have."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, smiling a little at the words.

"I know you have a hard time believing it now," Severus continued, "but you're special, and the others really do want to be your friend. I didn't lie to you when I said that they wanted to come. Did Draco explain that to you?"

"Yes, he did," Harry replied. "He said he wanted to come again tomorrow, and that you hadn't invited him."

"No, I hadn't," Severus said, surprised at Draco's confidence in inviting himself over. Perhaps it was for the best though, since Severus honestly had no previous warning of this. "He is more than welcome to come."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said.

"You're welcome," Severus replied with a nod of his head.

.oO-Oo.

Draco sauntered down the hallway, making his way to History of Magic, when he almost bumped into Professor McGonnagall.

"And do you care to account for your lack of presence in Transfiguration this morning?" she demanded.

"Not really, Professor," Draco said, with his characteristic smirk.

"So you just decided to play the truant today, did you?" Draco shrugged.

"Sorry, Professor," he said.

"Detention tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy."

"What time?" he replied.

"All day. I will not have you thinking you're better than everyone else. Skipping class is not an option for you, no matter who your father is."

"But - but - " Draco protested.

"But what, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I have something else to do tomorrow!"

"Then you'll just have to rethink your plans," McGonnagall replied.

"But it's important!"

"I don't care if you're meeting with the Minister himself," she replied. "Detention tomorrow. Or would you prefer I take house points besides?"

"No, Professor," Draco said. "What time?"

"Eight o'clock," McGonnagall replied.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

Draco began to curse his luck as he continued to History of Magic. If only it had been History he missed. Binns would never have given detention for missing class. He wouldn't even notice if one of his students was missing! Now how was he going to explain this to Harry? He'd told Harry he didn't have any class that period. What he'd meant was that he didn't have any class that he intended on going to. But now he wasn't going to be able to come by the next day, and Harry, Draco was sure, would feel abandoned.

He could try to go see him tonight. But he didn't want to walk into anything that his godfather was doing that night with Harry. Undoubtedly they would have a few issues to resolve. But one way or another, he wasn't going to be able to see Harry tomorrow if McGonnagall was going to stick to her stated plan. And he didn't see any sign that she wouldn't either.

Draco felt a wave of apprehension build inside of him. After the lecture he gave Harry about caring, it would look really bad to not show up for any reason - even detention. He doubted Harry even knew the meaning of the word detention. After all, what typically happened in detention would be the sort of thing Harry wouldn't even recognize as punishment.

.oO-Oo.

Harry spent the rest of the day in the chambers with Professor Snape. His arm was healed, and the knife was gone. Like Draco had promised, the Professor hadn't expected explanations he couldn't give. His professor had taken him back, despite what he had said and done the night before and that morning. It just impressed upon Harry the wrongness of what he had done. He had told his professor to go away, and then he had hurt himself.

Somehow, Draco's knowledge of how he had been treated didn't bother him as much as he thought it should. Maybe it was that Draco didn't reject him for it. Draco still accepted him, and still helped him.

Harry found himself wishing to return to the Mirror. He wanted to go back and watch as everyone loved him. He wanted to believe that Professor Snape and Draco cared about him. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to be confident of unconditional acceptance. But the feeling was so foreign to him, Harry wasn't even sure that he'd imagined it right.

Professor Snape had been quiet the whole day. Well, he was always quiet, but he hadn't asked many questions, and he'd just been there. They'd been together, but there hadn't been much conversation. The professor just was grading papers, and Harry sat down to read his school books.

Harry just felt confused and conflicted. What he had done was worthy of rejection, he was sure. But it hadn't happened. He just wanted to forget that the whole episode had happened. Then he felt his eyelids get heavy. His head began to nod as he continued to try to focus on his school.

Shortly, he found himself in the land of dreams.

.oO-Oo.

Severus had stuck to his note on his classroom, and didn't return for anymore classes. He figured Harry needed someone at that point, even if he couldn't figure out anything to say. He hoped just being with Harry could reassure him.

He felt elated, much more than he felt he should, that Harry had come back to him in the end. Perhaps the thin and delicate bond that they had wasn't quite as thin and delicate as he thought it was initially. He was grateful that everything had worked out as well as it had. Severus thought of several possible outcomes which could have been worse.

Ah, Lily, he thought, he was doing such a terrible job of child raising! Lily. He thought back to the dream that he'd had a few nights back, and the last thing she'd told him. "How can Harry ever hope to trust a man who doesn't even trust himself?" He really would have to learn to trust himself, he figured, before he could be sure of Harry's trust. But it wasn't like he had done anything to cause him to trust himself. His history with Harry was littered with mistakes and things he should or shouldn't have done.

He would definitely need to have a talk with Draco. It was dangerous for him to have told Harry that he knew. But it had turned out alright, and he wanted to thank Draco for helping Harry when he couldn't. It was definitely a stroke of luck that Draco had happened upon Harry.

Then there was a faint scratching at Severus' door, so he got up from his grading to check the door. At his feet was Draco's black cat, with a note tied around the collar. Curious, Severus took the note from the cat's collar, and the cat darted away. He opened up the parchment.

I won't be able to come tomorrow after all. Sorry.

Draco Malfoy

That was all it said. It wasn't even addressed. Severus wasn't sure if it was meant for him or Harry. But he would have to inform Harry if nothing else. Returning to the main room, he noticed Harry was asleep. Well, any announcement about this could certainly wait until he woke up. Harry was undoubtedly exhausted. Severus couldn't imagine him having had a good night's sleep, and the combine it with stress and loss of blood, Harry definitely needed a nap. He'd tell Harry the news when he woke up.