Dragon's tears

Disclaimer: not mine

One

~ 17th October Harry's 6th year ~

Hermione had her nose in a thick brown book as she wandered along the dark corridor in the late evening from the library. She turned the page and noted something down on the piece of parchment that she had in her hand, the book itself was enchanted to float along on its own in front of her.

Clip, clop, clip, clop. Went her shiny black shoes on the stone floor. Clip, clop, clip, clop. She stopped, and looked down at the ground. With a muttered 'lumos' she held her wand to the floor and gasped. She was standing in a sticky red liquid. She stood and pointed her wand at the door.

"Nox, Alohomora." The lock clicked and she pushed the door open, and squinted into the darkness of the unused classroom. "Lumos." She said again and held her wand high and she scanned the room. Beside her on her left, leaning up against the wall next to the door was a dark haired boy, one whom she knew very well.

In his left hand was a piece of parchment and in the right was a silver dagger tainted with his red blood. Crouching down beside her friend she checked his vitals, he still had a pulse but it was weak. Carefully she laid him down on the floor and called the book that she had been previously reading towards her.

She then picked up the piece of parchment and read it.

Dear whoever finds me,

If I am alive do me a favour and let me die, if I am dead send me to Voldemort, a last joke to the man that ruined my life. But no wait if I am to be sent to the man who ruined my life send me to Dumbledore.

But grant my last wish; do not under any circumstances take me to madam Pomfrey, nor tell her, Mcgonagall or Dumbledore about this destroy this letter and destroy the knife.

I guess the tabloids would want to know why I killed my self so here is my answer, send it off to them all along with a photo of my body.

"Dear readers of the wizarding world papers, I have only one message to you and that is this:

Fear for your lives, fear for yourselves, fear for your children, your families and your friends. Voldemort is back and he will kill you all.

The muggles will die, the muggle-lovers will die, the mudbloods will die all who side with Dumbledore will die, all who side with the ministry shall die.

You will all die.

I just have a head start, so go on panic away for I care not since I am gone.

See you in hell.

Harry Potter."

Hermione dropped the letter and turned her attentions back to her friend, he wished to die and he was very close to doing so, but Hermione would be damned if her friend died when she could prevent it. She flicked through the pages of the book she had been reading earlier and drew her wand.

"Confuto minuo fluo." A gentle white light encased Harry's limp body as the blood, which was escaping through the numerous wounds that he had made, stop flowing. Hermione looked back to the book and then held her wand over her friend once more.

"Sano expletus!" this time a light pink light slithered its way through every fibre of Harry's body. Hermione sat back on her feet to wait for her friend to wake up. Surprisingly she didn't have to wait long. Harry's eyes flickered open and he squinted through the darkness to gaze upon his so-called rescuer.

Hermione smiled and Harry glared, Hermione's smile faltered as Harry pointed his, yet un-noticed, wand at her.

"Obliviate!" his spell hit her directly and her eyes went blurry. Harry stood and pointed his wand at himself "Purgo". He then pointed his wand at the floor, wall and door where all his blood had stained. "Proluo prolu prolutum." The blood appeared to sink into the stone floor as his spell washed over it. He smirked to himself and then left the classroom returning to Gryffindor tower. Behind him Hermione, slightly confused, stood and then she too returned to the tower.

~ Present day. January 8th Harry's 6th year ~

"And look at Potter fly! It looks like he's seen the snitch!" Harry was zooming towards the grounds at breakneck speed; he didn't need to glance behind him to check if Malfoy was following, he knew he was.

"Come on Malfoy, catch up with me." He muttered to himself, his wish was granted; out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Slytherin Quidditch robes. Harry grinned and continued his decent towards the ground.

15 feet.

10 feet.

5 feet.

3 feet.

Pulling up on his Firebolt sharply, Harry levelled out with the grounds. He spun round and saw that his plan had worked; Malfoy hadn't pulled up fast enough and had collided with the frozen January ground. Harry smirked and turned the broom vertical and sped up to look for the snitch above the other players.

"And Harry Potter pulls a fantastic Wronski Feint effectively knocking Slytherin seeker Draco Malfoy out for the rest of the game!"

Down on the pitch Madam Pomfrey had rushed to the aid of the seeker. She had conjured a stretcher and was now rushing back to the Infirmary. There was a tumultuous applause coming from the Gryffindor stands that was easily blocking out the boo's and cries of anger from the Slytherin end.

Harry circled the pitch high above all the other players and then no less than 15 minutes later, he spotted the snitch and went into yet another dive to grab it. Which he did 23 seconds later 7 foot from the ground.

~ Later that same day in the infirmary ~

"Harry, I know the move you pulled was legal," Dumbledore said in a grave tone. "But it has rendered Mr Malfoy unconscious. When he awakens you will have to tutor him in everything that he missed."

"What!" Harry cried out in outrage. He was being punished because Malfoy couldn't pull his broom up fast enough!

"Harry please calm down," Dumbledore said, still talking gravely.

Harry sat down on one of the chairs next to the bed that held the unconscious Slytherin.

"Fine, what do I have to do?" he asked, accepting defeat.

Dumbledore beamed, "Just take notes in all your classes, record every Potion you make, and then when Mr Malfoy wakes, you will help him with his work."

"Yes sir." Dumbledore smiled again, and stood, resting one of his aged hands on Harry's shoulder and smiling before leaving Harry in the infirmary alone with the unconscious Draco Malfoy of all people.

~ Three weeks later ~

Harry was leaning up against the wall of the infirmary with one of his Transfiguration books open, leaning against his knees.

He turned the page and noted down the page he was on. Rubbed his eyes and shut the book, resting it on the table beside the bed he was sitting on. He couldn't remember when he had decided to start sleeping in the infirmary but that was where he was now. Snuggled under the sheets of an infirmary bed in a private room which he was sharing with the still unconscious Malfoy.

He looked over to the said body. The blonde boy hadn't moved at all since the Quidditch match, his skin was still as pale. Harry climbed out of the bed and pulled the chair over to his nemeses side.

Draco Malfoy. The worst of all the Slytherin's. The son of the worst Death Eater. The sneering child who was raised by a cruel taskmaster. The beaten child that turned into every girls dream and every guys rival. The enemy of all Gryffindors. The sworn enemy of Harry Potter simply because the child didn't know how to make friends. The lonely boy who had no true friends.

Harry stopped his train of thought. In the three weeks that Draco Malfoy had lain unconscious in the infirmary not one Slytherin had come to visit. Crabbe and Goyle could be seen escorting the young eccentric and busty Blaise Zabini. Not even Narcissa, Draco's own mother had come to visit, and with Lucius still in Azkaban. Draco Malfoy's only visitors were Severus Snape, as his head of house, Madam Pomfrey to check on his vitals and stability, and Harry Potter as his would be tutor.

All in all, Harry realised, Draco Malfoy was alone in the world with no one that cared for him. Making up his mind, he promised the unconscious body that when he did finally wake, he, Harry, would change that.

Harry stood and rested his fingers of his right hand on the blonde boy's cheek.

"Wake up soon, Draco. Hogwarts is boring with out you."

He then turned and climbed into his bed, whispering, nox, turning the lights out in the room, plunging it into darkness.

With one last look at Draco's still bed, Harry closed his eyes and went to sleep.