A/N: I am in the process of rewriting this fan fiction as of 4/8/2020 to reflect better writing skills and elaborate on some plot. I really like the ideas I had for this story, but I can do it so much more justice now. I've also deleted how review-hungry I was and some personal things that were going on that I shared originally. Thank you all for the love on the original story, I hope you'll enjoy the rewrite as well! That said, the same warnings apply!

T/W: Graphic Self-Harm, Graphic Eating Disorders,

Notes: Slash (HP/DM, SS/RL), OOC characters, AU (Sirius lives! Draco has not taken the Dark Mark! Random other non-cannon plot points!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and this fiction is purely a work made for entertainment, not commercialization or profits of any kinds.

CHAPTER ONE

August 31st, Malfoy Manor

Draco's POV

"You insolent boy," Father screams at me, throwing a punch to my side. "Why didn't you take the Dark Mark? Do you realize what a honor it is to even have the honor of being offered the Mark?"

"I- I don't want it," I try to tell him after a particularly long night the previous evening, when we were called to a meeting and I neglected to blindly follow the Dark Lord's direction for me. The exchange was short and I knew what was coming before his lips even formed the words of the curse.

September 1st, Malfoy Manner

Draco's POV

I am unsure how long I stay under the curse before my head hit the ground with a sickening crack. The next morning I wake to my mother's concerned face directly in my line of sight and I'm sure she has been up all night watching over me and is the only reason I awake in my bed, with the blood wiped clean and glamours covering the damage to any prying onlookers.

"Pack your things or we'll be late," she says tersely. My mother is a caring woman and I know she loves me by the way she cares for me after nights like these, but she cannot defy her husband for fear of facing a much worse fate. It would be all too easy for Lucius to play it off as some kind of accident and act like a grief-stricken single father with no time for reporters or a proper investigation. Money would solve all of his problems for him. I understood why she couldn't do more and relished in the small tokens of her care and love I do get: a lingering hand on my head as she says goodbye at Kings Cross, gentle fingers wiping the blood off my face, a soft glance of sorrow on difficult nights. It meant everything to me. Today, though, Lucius stops the car at the curb and briefly mutters something about sending further instructions before yelling at me not to miss the train or I'd be sorry. I shudder at the thought and job lightly to find Blaise and Pansy on the Hogwarts Express.

"You almost missed the train," Pansy states coolly, though he does not miss the brief exhale of relief they share as she secures the compartment with silencing and locking charms.

"How bad was it?" She asks in a hushed tone, glancing briefly at my arms. I subconsciously pull the sleeves of my jumper over the heels of my hand.

"Not too bad, really." These feeble attempts to lie have never worked since they found out about the abuse in second year, but I don't want them to worry unnecessarily.

"Cut the shit, Draco. How many times a week?" Blaise asks, his tone serious as always. They exchange a brief glance as he says this and I take the opportunity to look absolutely anywhere in the compartment that is not directly in their eyes. He had found out about my nasty little habit this summer, and had made it clear that "that kind of behavior" was "weak and unacceptable for a Malfoy" nearly every night. The only reprieve I was afforded was that he had become one of the Dark Lord's Inner Circle member and was often gone for days at a time on a mission. Regardless, I bit my bottom lip and lied through my teeth.

"Maybe twice a week? I didn't exactly keep a log," I tried to cover the lie with a light chuckle. "Plus, I've been working on the self-harm and purging. I haven't done it in months. You don't have to worry about me this year, guys. I promise! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to attend the Prefect's meeting." Blaise's eyes are burning a hole in the back of my jumper as I walk to the front of the train, but I don't turn around and he makes no move to stop me.

Once we have left the train and made it to the castle, I give them a lame excuse about needing to see my godfather before ditching dinner to head to the dungeons early.

"Sectumsempra," a voice says gently behind me and I turn slowly to meet the gaze of my godfather.

"If you had been at the feast, you would have known the password, Draco." Severus says. "Do I even need to ask why you have chosen to skip dinner and avoid your friends just to sit here for hours?" I glance down at my shoes and the robe hanging off my small frame, avoiding eye contact as I follow him into the common room. He seizes my arm and pulls back the sleeve, revealing rows of parallel cuts on top of scars.

"Fresh," he sighs and mutters a few incantations to prevent infection.

"You know how hard it is, Sev. I can't stop overnight."

"I know, but you need to be careful." He searches my eyes with his, flittering from my face to my arms, still held in his grasp. "There is a supply of Dreamless Sleep in your trunk, I would recommend that you use it to get some sleep before the first day of classes."

"Thanks, Sev."

September 1st, Welcome Feast

Harry's POV

"My dear students," Dumbledore addresses the long tables holding young witches and wizards sprawled out in front of him in the Great Hall of his school. "I would first like to welcome back Professor Lupin, our newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and our new live-in Auror, Sirius Black. A warm welcome back to all of our esteemed faculty and, of course, all of you. Hogwarts is your home and we are glad to have you all back within these walls. I wish you all a wonderful year and leave you with a bit of wisdom gained from old age," he paused to look directly at me. "Remember that people and lives change like the weather. Happiness can be found in the darkest of times for each of you, if you simply remember to turn on the light. If you can't find it, look for others to help you."

"Yeah, we get it! Now, get on with the bloody feast!" Ron muttered under his breath, earning a smack to the back of his head from Hermione, who was seated in between him and I.

"Now, as some would say," Dumbledore continued, the twinkle in his eye shining. "Let's get on with the feast!" I let out a small chuckle as Ron blushed furiously. Food began to appear on the long tables in front of them, but the hall was oddly quiet, overcome by a loud argument at the Slytherin table.

"-know bloody well it isn't just one meal! You know he's lying!" Pansy Parkinson was yelling at Blaise Zabini.

"Pans, shut up! He'll hear you from the dungeons. And, besides…." He trailed off as my focus was brought back to his own table by Hermione's voice.

"Harry, why don't you try some of the turkey?" I resisted the strong urge to roll my eyes at her overbearing nagging and opt to scoop a large helping of vegetables onto my plate, along with a small spoonful of mashed potatoes. "Harry, you know that you need to-"

I interrupted her before she could continue. "Not here, Hermione." Aside from concerned glances from my godfather, the rest of dinner went by rather peacefully. After leaving the Great Hall, Sirius and Remus cornered me and half dragged me to their shared quarters.

"You didn't eat enough at dinner," Sirius states. It isn't a question and it's clearly not up for discussion, despite my personal thought that it was very much adequate given the fat I could still pinch on my underarms. Do they not understand that we are about to fight a war and I need to be in the best position possible, which includes having a modicum of control over my own body if nothing else?

"You aren't slipping up, are you?" The concern in his voice is clear and I muster the biggest, brightest smile I can before responding.

"I guess I'm just so happy to be back that I got distracted. I'll eat more in the morning, I promise!"

"I'm sorry, kiddo," he says, pulling me into a tight hug. "You just scared me with all of this when we found out: self-harm, starving yourself… it's a bit much to manage and I'm terrified you'll relapse."

"I have to check," Remus says, grabbing my arm as I return my godfather's hug. He pulls the sleeves back and I glare at the offending white lines, itching to cover them in red blood once again.

"I'm proud of you," he says. You wouldn't be if you could hear what I just thought or if you bothered to check the rest of my body, I thought bitterly. I plastered another smile on my face.

"See? All good," I give them both a reassuring nod as I grab the Marauder's Map off the nightstand by the bed.

"Don't get caught!" Sirius yells after me. Under the cloak, I roam the halls until I find an empty classroom on the map and pull the cloak off to get a better look. Snape is awake in the dungeons, probably tormenting first years, Dumbledore is pacing in his office, and Ginny is with Dean in front of the Room of Requirement. Their names vanish seconds later and I almost head back to Gryffindor Tower before I see an interesting name in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom: Draco Malfoy.