A Different Outcome
"Sectumsempra!" Harry yelled.
Draco was knocked backward as if he was no more than a feather.
A feather.
Draco's breaths came in short gasps. Each one pained him more than the last.
Harry began to approach him.
Draco began to feel a hot, rust-like liquid fill his throat and coughed. Draco realized, much to his horror, his throat was filling with blood.
He tried to move his arms but they were pinned, stuck to the bathroom tile that was covered with water, and now his own blood. He whimpered. He was utterly helpless.
The deep gashes covering his chest and stomach began to burn, the flames licking his skin and insides ceaselessly.
The smell of the blood finally began to fill his nostrils and he permitted his eyes a glance at his torso. Bile began to mix with the blood in his throat at the sight. His once white shirt was now crimson.
Harry was muttering something and holding his trembling hands over Draco's shredded body. His eyes were filled with shock and fear and his voice shook. But it was not incantations or spells Harry was mumbling.
Apologies? Draco thought. Certainly not.
Snape finally entered the room and stared at Harry apprehensively. Draco almost smirked.
The pain was becoming unbearable now and Draco felt himself slipping. His pulse slowed greatly and his eyes rolled back in his head. The world was blurry at once but Draco thought he saw Snape, muttering a.. countercurse.
…..
When Draco woke he was alone. The room empty, the air oddly quiet.
He glanced around and realized he was in the infirmary. Shock gripped him. How many days had he been out?
Draco saw Nearly-Headless Nick hovering around outside the door and sat up quickly.
"Hey, you!"
Sir Nicholas turned around and approached Draco.
"What's today?"
"Why, Tuesday, my dear lad!"
"No, you –" Draco put his face in his palm and gritted his teeth.
"The date."
"Oh! 'Tis the 26th!"
Draco inhaled slowly and waved the spirit away. He had a day until his deed.
He lay back down onto the bed that now seemed to reek of fear that began to consume Draco once more. Fear had done that a lot to Draco this year. But another thought filled Draco's mind :
How did Harry know that spell?
It was not one he had recognized. And how had Snape known a countercurse?
Harry and Snape left his mind but he was left with a sickening thought : were any marks left from the curse?
Draco lowered a shaking hand to his shirt. Pajama shirt. How had he-? Draco shooed away the thought and took off his shirt.
Fortunately, there was a rather large mirror on the wall and he approached it hesitantly, eyes on the ground.
And finally he looked up.
His pale skin covered his bones tightly and ribs stuck out quite prominently. There were the benefits of eating next-to-nothing an entire year. But he wasn't able to eat. He couldn't eat. He always felt too sick to eat. Pansy had begun to fret and nag early in the year and he had had to distance himself. He didn't really enjoy her suffering but there really was no other way. Besides, the cramping in his stomach helped him forget his deed a short while.
He allowed his eyes to flicker downward to his stomach, to where the curse had hit him.
White, jagged scars stretched across the expanse of his abdomen and chest, looking something like claw marks. His breathing hitched and his trembling hands rose to touch the unsightly things.
He saw someone approaching in the mirror and spun around.
Hermione's eyes widened with terror.
"Harry.. did that to you?"
Draco narrowed his eyes the best he could and remained silent.
"I see," Hermione breathed. "I was only asking because I.."
Hermione's shoulders straightened and her lips formed a straight, serious line.
And, god was she beautiful.
Draco's chest rose and fell slowly, in tune with his heart.
"Was worried." She finished. "I mean I care.."
Draco's lips parted slightly, as if to say something but closed again quickly.
"About you," She prodded, tilting her head slightly.
"About me?" Draco chuckled. "I assure you no one cares about me."
"Ah, I know I ought not to. The history we have and all. And believe me I've tried to tell myself otherwise but I.. just realized recently that.. I can't live without you, Draco Malfoy." When she finished speaking her eyes filled with tears.
"But you hate me," Draco flushed and his eyes fell on the ground. "And even if you didn't this is certainly not the time to tell me so." His voice broke on the last word and it took all his strength not to break down crying.
Hermione cleared her throat and spoke again, "Why is this not a good time? It's as good a time as any."
"It's not a good time because I'm going to die, Hermione." It was the first time he'd ever spoken her first name.
"Wha-? How are you going to-?" Hermione started crying and covered her face with both of her hands. Just the sight made Draco want to cry as well.
"But if it means anything," Draco said clearly, "I care about you too."
Her crying stopped immediately and her eyes met Draco's. She let out a whimper and ran to meet his arms.
She entangled herself around him and lay her head on his shoulder.
"Why are you going to die, Draco?" She whispered in his hear.
"I don't have to," Draco breathed in hers. "But we'd have to.. do something very dangerous."
"And what is that?"
"We'd have to tell Dumbledore my plans. And I'll probably be put in Azkaban."
Hermione pulled herself away a little but remained in his arms.
"Why? What are your-?"
"My plans to kill him, Hermione."
