"You wouldn't be able to do anything! You can't just fix this!" Karkat's voice rose a little, the Gryffindor gesturing wildly as he spoke. "I'm not protecting you because I think you're a kid or that you can't protect yourself! You wouldn't be able to stand up to him! He'd kill you."

Karkat shook his head, kicking himself. He'd already said too much, might as well go all the way and explain things. There'd been a Hogsmeade trip a few days ago. The bruises were still there. Slowly, shakily, Karkat drew his hands to the waistband of his pants, starting to undo them and letting them drop to his ankles along with his underwear, shrugging off his robes for a clearer view. Dark blue and yellow bruises decorated his hips, scratch lines from nails and small cutting spells decorating the lower half of his legs. He looked down at the floor, refusing to look Tavros in the eyes.

"I can't stop it," he whispered, hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I'm sorry."