The Prayer of the Children

By Kira Ader

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any cannon events. I do not own " The Prayer of the Children". Everything else is mine.

Warning: This is my first song fic. Please be nice. I'm not sure if this is slash or not. You can interpret it the way you like.

A/N The section of music which is in Swahili is pronounced as follows: Dolly chew yay tay. Szvay dyay chay mohleet vay.

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" Harry Potter. Please come to the infirmary." Professor McGonagal asked, sticking her head into the Potions classroom. Her voice sounded like she had become used to something particularly horrendous, yet could do nothing about it. Which she had. Snape did not look up from grading his papers while Harry silently gathered up his books and supplies. The other students, however, did. Harry would frequently get pulled from his classes to go to the infirmary, though none knew why. None, that is, except for Ron and Hermione. Ron didn't even look at Harry, he kept on stirring their potion furiously. Hermione however gazed at him from across the room with eyes filled with tears that refused to fall. Harry took little notice of this, and simply headed out the door and continued on to the infirmary without even waiting for McGonagal to do or say anything. Professor McGonagal looked at Harry with something that looked like regret, and followed along behind him.

" I take it was Hermione? I wonder what she found. I burned the rags. Perhaps I missed a spot on the floor. Damnit, I had gone for almost a month without getting caught…" Professor McGonagal almost replied that it had been, until she realized that Harry wasn't speaking to her, but rather conversing with the various stray thoughts that coursed through his brain. She wanted to cry. How had things gotten so hopeless?

Madam Pomfrey greeted Harry just the way she always did these past few months. She would be cleaning something up or filling out paper work or something, and the door would open and Harry would walk in followed by whichever professor decided to baby him, and would scowl saying, " Oh wonderful, you've done it again, haven't you?" This time was just a little different. She was treating a student who had broken a few bones falling from the Astronomy tower. She didn't even look at Harry, but it was the with the same jaded tone that she said,

" You know, Harry. I actually have patients who need my attention."

" Poppy. Harry needs just as much attention as the next injured student." McGonagal intervened, hoping that Madame Pomfrey hadn't hurt Harry's feelings or anything. She needn't have worries, for Harry just sat there listlessly picking the grime from underneath his fingernails. Madame Pomfrey snorted.

" Yes, well it's not as if my other patients purposely jump out of windows…"

" Poppy! That is enough!" McGonagal snapped, looking at Harry. Harry just started working on his index finger.

" Oh hush. I'll be with him in a moment."

" Alright you. Stand up." Pomfrey said, grabbing a manila folder off of her desk. Harry did as he was told.

" Strip." She commanded. Harry nodded and pulled off his robes, shirt, and pants until he was left standing in a pair of red silk boxers. McGonagal took one look at his body and gasped. Harry was well muscled from Quidditch and working in the garden over the summer, and he had definitely grown a little bit in the transition from sixth year to seventh year, but that wasn't what Professor McGonagal was gasping about. All up and down his arms and legs and across his chest and stomach, were angry red, pink, and white lines. They were scars of years of pain, anguish, stress, and the constant feeling of hopelessness expressed in clean swipes of a razor. Around Harry's left arm was a messily tied bandage of gauze, obviously taken from the infirmary, that was starting to turn a sickly shade of reddish brown. McGonagal covered her face and stepped out of the room, but Pomfrey just clucked her tongue and began to unwrap the arm. Harry winced sighed simultaneously at the pain of the wound being re opened.

" Rather deep this time, Mr. Potter. You'll need a Stitch Charm."

" No thank you."

" If they aren't stitched you'll have scars a few millimetres deep." She said, sighing exasperatedly.

" I know." Harry said. Madam Pomfrey just spat,

" Have it your way." And then proceeded to care for the would as much as Harry would let her. She cauterized the six gashes so they wouldn't bleed, but it would still take much longer for the wound to heal than if she had used a Stitch Charm.

" You know Potter, this is getting ridiculous. I'm going to stop accepting you if your wounds are self inflicted." She said, drawling much the same way Snape often did. Harry ignored her and spread his arms so she could take the pictures. Pomfrey noted in her notes that there were ten new lacerations since the last time Harry had been in the infirmary, not including the ones she had just tended to. She noted their locations, depth, and relative age, then told Harry to get out of her sight. Again, Harry ignored her and threw on his shirt, pants, and robes, and left the infirmary.

The way back to the potions classroom was just as silent as going to the infirmary. That is, it was until Professor McGonagal decided chime in with,

" I apologize on behalf of Madame Pomfrey Harry, her behavior was…" Harry tuned her out. In all reality, Harry preferred Madame Pomfrey's reaction to his cutting over McGonagal. There was only so much empathy and pity a person could take, and Pomfrey's jaded, harsh perspective on the whole thing was rather refreshing.

Draco turned in his desk when the doors opened, and Harry walked silently down the isle and sat back down next to Ron. Ron hadn't stopped stirring the potion since Harry had left. He eyed the boy critically. The beginning of their sixth year, Harry had been…distant. The two would still fight, but it seemed like Harry just didn't care. Draco would say something to antagonize the boy, and Harry would take a deep breath like he were going to explode, but then he would just deflate and settle for, " Fuck off, Malfoy." And then walk away. Some fights would get a little more heated than that, but they still didn't have the passion that they contained fourth and fifth year. But this year? Harry had entirely secluded himself from the school. He had quit the Quidditch team and spent hours reading books that Professor Dumbledore assigned to him. When he wasn't doing that, he would lay in bed, muttering to himself, or rather what he called conversing with his intellect. Professor Alena, the Muggle Studies professor said it was a condition called schizophrenia. In classes, Harry would do the work, but it was mediocre at best. His grades had gone from A's to C's and were still on the fall. And in the hallway, if Draco tried to start something, Harry wouldn't even look at him. He'd just keep on muttering to himself or staring at a spot on the wall in front of him. It was this that really got to Draco. He didn't like not having an arch nemesis anymore.

So when class ended and all of the other students went to lunch, Draco instead followed Harry to the Gryfindor common room, knowing that the boy no longer ate in front of people. He would go down to lunch just as it was ending so he wouldn't have to deal with socializing. Harry muttered the password (aquamarine) and entered. Draco tried to slip in before the portrait closed, but to no such luck.

" Malfoy? What are you doing?" The Fat Lady asked.

" I need to speak to Potter." The Fat Lady got a sad look in her eye.

" He doesn't speak anymore." She said. Draco sighed.

" That's why I want to talk to him. Now let me in."

" Password first." The Fat Lady said, smiling, know that Draco didn't know.

" Aquamarine." Draco said, not in the mood.

" How did you know!"

" A, I heard Harry, and b, I am the Heady Boy. I have all of the passwords."

" Oh, that's right. Silly me. Well, in you go then." The Fat Lady said, slapping her forehead. She swung aside to allow Draco entrance, who accepted with a wary glance at the Fat Lady. He much preferred the Slytherins suit of armor that was much less perky. Draco glanced around. Despite his being Head Boy, he had not yet been in Gryfindor commons, mostly because he hadn't wanted to and he decided he never wanted to again. There was so much red and gold he thought he might puke. Then again, he mused, the Gryfindors would probably think the same of his commons, so he settled for shaking his head and starting what he hoped was the boys dormitory. It was.

" What are you doing here?" Harry said, deadly. He was sitting on the steps just outside of his door for some reason, absentmindedly rubbing his arm. Draco opened his mouth to say something, but had to think. What was he doing there?

" I'm curious, Potter." Draco said.

" 'Bout what, Draco?" He asked. Draco was taken aback by that, Harry using his first name.

" About that. About why we never fight anymore. About why you're so dead. What happened.?"

" Wouldn't you like to know. Wouldn't everyone? I know why. Because I'm fucking Harry potter that's, why. Oh shut up, I know that. But they don't Who cares if Harry is only human. Yes I'm well aware that I'm not sane. Sane people don't…" Harry trailed off, leaning his head against the door. His eyes were half lidded and he continued to mumble. Draco stared at him, terrified.

" Yes, but they won't let me. All I want…"

Draco watched Harry, eyes wide. What was wrong with him. Not knowing what else to do, he leaned over the deranged boy and slapped him. Once, twice…

" Draco, please stop. I'm perfectly fine. I'm in enough pain as it is without you slapping me." Draco closed his eyes.

" Potter, you're scaring me." Harry sighed.

" I seem to be able to scare everyone. Everyone except for Voldemort. If only I could scare Voldemort then It would be all over and, No. I know I'm just being delusional…"

" Potter!" Draco shrilled. This was far too weird for him.

" Draco. Stop yelling."

" Stop talking to yourself!"

" I'm not talking to myself. I am having a conversation with Logic. It's rather soothing."

" Potter. What's wrong with you?" Harry sighed and stood up.

" Go away Draco. Don't ask about what you don't want to know." He said, and opened the door. He entered, but didn't close it. Instead he just lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, and started humming. Draco stood there for a moment, and then followed him in.

" I want to know. I need to know." Draco said.

" No, Draco, you don't."

" Stop calling my Draco. And I'm not leaving until you explain yourself."

" What is there to explain?"

" Why you've changed so much."

" People change. You've changed. Look at you. You've grown a few inches since last year, and you're hair looks a little darker."

" Harry-"

" Don't call me Harry."

" Damnit Potter! That isn't what I meant! Now explain!"

" Alright…" Harry said, almost leisurely. He pulled off his robes, just as he had done in the infirmary. He stood there, looking at the confusion in Draco's face, and then, without another word, pulled off his shirt. Draco gasped.

" Oh my god. I never knew the muggles-"

" These scars aren't the handy work of my so called family, Draco. This is all my work. I've turned my body into a canvas, this is how I feel. Explanation enough for you."

" You're fucking crazy, Potter. Know that?"

" I don't think so. My logic tells me I fret too much, but no. I don't think I'm insane." Draco shook his head and sank down on Harry's bed.

" You're logic thinks you fret too much…"

" Yes, I know you think I fret too much, but honestly, you would too if you had to worry about what I have to. Yes, I know I strong but I'm not that strong and…oh be quite. You would have fighting chance against the bastard."

" Are you talking to your logic?" Draco asked.

" Actually, yes. And it's being quite the pain in the ass. Don't tell me not to swear. I will swear if I bloody well please." Draco shook his head. Harry watched him for a moment.

" You still don't understand." Draco shook his head.

" Why do you do this to yourself?" Harry sighed.

" The physical pain dulls the emotional pain for at least a moment, and those moments are all that are keeping me going. The professors are trying to cure me, but they're just driving me further into this depression." Harry lay there, thinking. Then he laughed.

" You realize that this is the most articulate I have been since sixth year? And I'm talking to you, no less, half naked on my bed with you laying next to me? Maybe Logic is right. Maybe I am crazy. Oh shut up." Draco smiled.

" Probably."

  Draco and Harry were sitting on the floor of Harry's room with a mound of sweets between them. Draco was currently eating a chocolate frog, and Harry was actually smiling.

" You know, I haven't felt this relaxed in a while. Something has to be up. You aren't here to kill me, are you?"

" No. I don't know why I'm here."

" I thought you were curious as to why I'm dead."

" Well now I know, so what am I still doing here?"

" Don't know. Why don't you ask logic?"

" I don't have a logic."

" Sure you do."

" You realize this is a ridiculous conversation we're having."

" You realize we're having a conversation?"

" Point taken."

" But I've had nothing but conversations about strategy and death and the war since fifth year. Humor me why don't you."

" Sure. So I have to talk to my logic, huh?"

" You should try it sometime. But not around me. You'd just feel awkward. I'm so used to it my logic has almost come to look like an actual person."

" No shit."

" Really. My logic is a she. She vaguely looks like Ginny, except for her hair is more red and less orange." Draco nodded and shoved some more chocolate in his mouth.

" Interesting." He said, absentmindedly looking at his watch. He was going to ignore it and say something, but then he looked at his watch again and jumped up.

" Draco?" Harry asked.

" Dinner is ending in five minutes. I have to go." Harry nodded.

" Probably. I'll clean this up." Harry said. Draco glanced around the room. There were candy wrappers everywhere. He blessed the house elves, but still.

" You sure?"

" Am I wizard, or am I wizard." Draco nodded.

" Right. Spending so much time in the Gryfindor dorms must have addled with my brain."

" You hush."

" Were you talking to me, or to logic?"

" Both. Now get out."

" Right. I'll talk to you later."

" Sure." Harry said. And then Draco disappeared out the door.

" Draco, where were you?" Pansy shrieked when Draco got to the Slytherin dorms."

" I had to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

" But he was at dinner…" Pansy said. Draco sighed.

" Pansy…is he, or is he not, the greatest wizard ever?"

" Draco…why do I get the feeling you aren't talking about Professor Dumbledore." Pansy asked. Draco sighed and went up to his room. It was rather large, maybe a bit smaller than the Slytherin common room, but still large by any measure. In one corner there was a set of twenty mirrors, all in a diamond shape. They were positioned so that you got a full image of yourself, but you didn't. It was something Draco had seen in a restaurant in Paris, and had replicated it here. He rolled up his sleeve.

Draco had stopped cutting a long time ago, It was a juvenile thing that he had done in his fourth and fifth year, but after a while it didn't work any more, and he had stopped. Even so, he still had white little scars running up and down his left arms that made him cringe whenever he looked at them.

" Draco…" Pansy said, letting herself into the room. Draco quickly rolled down his sleeve, but he wasn't quick enough.

" Draco, you aren't agonizing over those wretched scars again, are you?" She asked. Draco scowled and plopped down on his bed. Pansy sighed.

" I thought something was up with you. Was it Dumbledore?" Draco sighed.

" No. It wasn't Dumbledore." Pansy looked confused.

" Well then who? You never let anyone get under your skin like this." Draco looked in the mirror again from his position on the bed. His face was distorted, and he looked vaguely like a house elf.

" Harry." He said. Pansy looked repulsed.

" Harry Potter! That's who's gotten you all worked up?" She shrieked. Draco smiled grimly and shook his head no.

" Pansy, Harry has not gotten me all worked up as you so eloquently put it. We just have more in common with eachother than I care to." He said. Pansy stared, shocked.

" What. You mean you've come to a truce with him?"

" Seems that way." Draco said. Pansy looked horrified.

" So that's who you were talking about."

" Yes, Pansy. I suppose I was." He said. " Now would you kindly leave my room. I need to think." But Pansy didn't leave. Instead, she just stood there, and slowly her shocked and horrified expression was replaced with a thoughtful one.

" You two talked?"

" Yes, Pansy! Believe it or not we talked!" Draco spat and rolled over. He wished she would go away. He had enough to think about without her infuriating chatter distracting him.

" But he never talks. Not even to the Professors. He only talked to himself. How did you get through to him?" She asked. Draco shook his head.

" I don't know."

" Well you must have said something!"

" Pansy!"

" Fine. I'm leaving." She said. And she did, but before she closed the door, she took one last peek at Draco. He was sitting on his bed, looking at his arm again. She shook her head and closed the door. Sighing, she sat down in one of the chairs next to the fire and was about to doze off for a minute, when she knew what had happened. Harry was always being taken off to the infirmary, depressed, and he and Draco connected. She knew exactly why Harry was being dragged off to the infirmary. It didn't make her happy.

" Harry!" Hermione cried when Harry made his appearance at breakfast that morning. She wouldn't deny it, Harry still looked like shit, but he looked more relaxed, as if a giant burden had been removed.

" Hermione." Harry said, sitting down next to her and grabbing a bagel. Hermione stared at him incredulously as he spread a generous amount of cream cheese on it.

" What are you doing?" She asked, amazed.

" I'm eating." Harry said, taking a bite. Hermione shook her head.

" It's just that, well you haven't been eating breakfast or, well, eating period ever since…Harry?" Harry was mumbling to himself.

" Why shouldn't I talk? I haven't talked at all for a while, and it's getting lonely. No, you are still a wonderful chatter, it's just that you aren't tangible. Hmm…yes. I did rather enjoy that little chat with Draco. Because she's my friend that's why! I…Hermione. Stop looking at me like I've sprouted a second head." He said, taking another bite of bagel.

" Harry, who are you talking to."

" My logic. It looks kinda like…why don't you want me to tell her who you look like? Oh. alright then."

" Your logic?"

" Hmm. Where is Ron?"

" He's at the boy's prefect meeting, didn't you know?"

" Ron's a prefect? Wow. I have been out of it." He said, and then became very quiet again. His gaze drifted over to where Draco should have been sitting. Being Head Boy, he was probably be there. That was when Hermione recalled something Harry had said.

" Harry, when you were talking to yourself…"

" To logic."

" Yes, well, did you say you talked to Draco?" Harry nodded. Hermione looked not unlike Pansy did.

" Why ever would you want to do that?!" She exclaimed.

" I didn't really have a choice. He followed me up during dinner last night and interrogated me until I showed him my scars. After I showed him he got very quiet. I think I know what's up with him, and maybe we have more in common that I thought. Either way, it's nice to have a friend again." Hermione listed to the whole thing with tears in her eyes.

" Harry…what about Ron and I?" Harry shook his head and was grateful that there weren't many people at breakfast yet.

" Hermione. There is a difference between you and Draco."

" Yes! I care about you!"

" He does too in his won way. Let me explain. You give me empathy. That's all I get is empathy and I know how you feel and it's going to be okay. Well it's not. I've killed, and I've been killed. There is only one person who can say that same, but instead of giving me sympathy, which is the last thing I need, he gave me an open mind and listening ear. You're still my friend, but you and Ron…well you're just not part of the club." Harry said. Then he shrugged, shoved the rest of his bagel in his mouth, and left the Great Hall. Hermione could only sit there, stunned.

On their hands.

Harry flew in great swooping circles around the Quidditch pitch. It had been forever since he had flown, and that made it feel all the more great. He couldn't recall a time when he had felt so care free and light, that he could actually cry. Letting out a yell, Harry lunged foreword to see how fast he could go, when someone streaked across his path. Coming to a complete stop, he spun around to see Draco hover there, smiling. Harry shook his head and smiled.

" It's been a while since we flew together, huh?" Draco said. Harry nodded.

" Care to race?"

" You know your broom isn't faster than mine."

" Yes, but I've been flying longer than you."

" You're on."

And so they raced. And they raced and they raced and they raced. They probably would have gone on into the night had it not begun to pour, causing them to have to dash into the locker room, where, smiling, they collapsed in a heap on the floor. Well, Harry did anyway. Draco leaned on a sink.

" You were good, Potter."

" It's like riding a bike. Once you learn how to kick someone's ass, you never forget." Draco scowled.

" Thanks."

" Thanks." Harry said right back. Draco looked at him, confused.

" Pardon?" Harry sighed and stood up.

" Thank you. For not treating me like a piece of glass. For understanding. For not trying to cure me. For not trying to kill me." Harry said. Draco nodded and rolled up his left sleeve.

" I know." Harry said.

~ fin ~