Risen- Drarry COMPLETE

Chapter 59

—Harry POV—

"I can touch you now."

"He's back! Voldemort. He killed Cedric-"

I awoke in a cold sweat with a jolt and a gasp, blinking rapidly as my palms pressed themselves into the bed beneath me. In... out... the ceiling was twisting and turning above me. I felt as though the world was spinning without me for a second.

I turned to the side, catching a glimpse of Draco as he slept beside me, then turned over, looking at the time.

4:52am

This is the third time I've woken up tonight. And at this point, I know I won't be falling asleep again. I might as well shower.

Slowly, I crept out of bed, being sure not to wake Draco, and gathered a fresh set of clothes to change into after showering. Walking towards the bathroom, I was careful not to make noise. The last thing I needed was people knowing I was awake.

Turning on the light blinded me momentarily, making me squint and blink several times to get used to it. There was a sort of tingling that spread throughout my body, making it feel as though I were floating, or not really within myself.

Peeling off my shirt, the cold air from the ceiling vent struck me in the back. For some reason, it didn't feel as cold as it always did. I turned around, facing myself in the mirror. I had only one scar visible on my torso, one that curled around my shoulder, spilling into my back. It was really a back scar, only barely visible around my shoulder. Then there was the lightning strike on my forehead, "I must not tell lies' on my left hand, the scar Pettigrew gave me, the identical one I gave myself, and a few older, fading self harm scars.

As I looked at each one, I passed my hand over them, attempting to feel the raised and discolored skin, trying to remember what it was like when those wounds were fresh.

It was a bit too easy to remember the cause of each injury.

The faucet was turned on, set fairly warm, and I stepped in. Each drop that landed on me was coating a sensation that would not leave for the life of me: that of a thick heavy blanket all around me, numbing my senses, making static run through my veins, making it all too easy to close my eyes and drift away. I wanted the shower to get rid of it.

I reached for the faucet, turning it hotter, waiting to feel the change. When I felt barely any, I turned it left again... and again, and again until I couldn't turn the faucet any further. To hell with it, I thought. Let me just get to cleaning myself.

Stress relief. Yes, I think that's the soap I need. I squirted the liquid soap all over my loofah, squeezing it slightly, wanting to feel the abrasive texture of the cleaning object. I started by scrubbing my arms softly.

I couldn't feel what I was doing, and watching myself do it was making my head spin. I must not be scrubbing hard enough. I applied more pressure, continuing the routine up, down, up, down, around, then I moved onto my upper body. My torso, my neck, and my back. Up, down, up, down, around, up, down, around, up, left, right, up, down, around-

I was startled out of my mind at the sound of a knocking at the door.

"Harry? What're you doing showering at six in the morning?"

Had I been showering for a whole hour? I blinked, reaching over to turn off the faucet, before grabbing a towel and stepping out. It was when I opened the shower's curtain and the cool air hit that I felt the angry burn of hot water and far too much scrubbing over such a long period of time. I glanced at myself in the mirror. My skin looked dry and burnt, and it felt raw and itchy, especially in the areas surrounding my scars. I opened the door for Draco.