The atmosphere in the great hall was suffocating. Nothing on the surface appeared out of place, it was only a sickening uneasy feeling that snaked through Draco's entire being. He couldn't place it, he couldn't figure out what made the air so thick. It was too much. Draco stood and fled the Hall, ignoring the questioning looks of his friends. Ignoring the stares of those who were not his friends. Ignoring the empty seat at the table across the hall. Ignoring all of this, because something somewhere was not right.

The silent halls of Hogwarts were a welcome contrast to the noisy affairs back at the feast. He much preferred to be alone away from the prying eyes and whispered insults that were constantly thrown at him. His mind kept traveling back to the empty seat and found himself walking faster. He wasn't sure where he was going but wherever he ended up he needed to get there faster. He needed to get there now. He needed to, he stopped in the middle of the hallway, he needed to breathe. His chest tightened up, he couldn't seem to get air into his lungs. No, he couldn't do this here. To his right were some classrooms that he hadn't been in for a few years, and to his left, conveniently located, were the men's bathrooms. He heard voices behind him and panicked. It felt like all the walls were closing in on him, and he quickly tore into the bathrooms ripping off his cloak and dropping it on the floor. His breathing came harsh and heavy and panic clouded every sense. He splashed water in his face and yanked at his tie desperate to get some air. He stared into the sink where drops of water fell from the tips of his hair and made satisfying plink noises onto the porcelain.

There was a sound, so low, almost none existent and if it hadn't been for the massive amount of attention Draco was paying to the noises surrounding him he probably wouldn't have noticed. It wasn't obvious and for a moment he thought he made it up. He stood upright and listened. It took a few moments, few moments that he later regretted hesitating on. But soon he heard what had made him pause. It sounded like someone was breathing. But it was so light. Draco turned around to face the room. Who dared to interrupt in his moment of weakness? Nobody could be seen, only stall doors and shadows. But still, a shallow breathing could be heard.

"Who's there?" Draco said internally flinching at the sound of his voice cutting through the almost silence. He was about to say something else but his words died in his throat and the panic that had all but dissipated, came rushing back. He has been a student at Hogwarts for 6 years now. And hed been witness for some awful things done at the hands of Voldemort and his father. But nothing really came close to what he could see now. To what he had blindly run past just moments ago. The entire room seemed stained. Of course, it was not the entire room but Draco's tunnel vision made it seem like the entire room. Red, Draco's favorite color. Red splattered on the floor, not 2 feet from where he was standing. Red droplets leading from the crude looking splatter to a stall door. A door with half a red handprint smeared on the edge. Red. Draco didn't know what he was doing. In his head, he knew he needed to run and to get help and to not touch anything just to get a teacher to handle this, but there was a pull. His feet moved without permission, following the path of red, going against everything his mind was screaming at him. He reached out his hand to push the door open. A part of him was terrified of what he would find hiding behind the stall door. There was, however, a part of him that knew. The door swung open and everything inside of him fell to pieces.

A boy a little shorter than himself was leaning against the side of the stall. His raven hair fell in his eyes and a pair of glasses lay abandoned next to him. None of this is what broke Draco down in ways he didn't think possible. No, it was the red. Red poured out of and around the nastiest looking gashes Draco had ever seen on anyone's arms. Draco stood there for way too long.

"Draco..?" the whisper was so desperate and questioning and pure. The boy closed his eyes at the same time that Draco sank to his knees soaking his knees in red. Soaking his knees in blood.

"Potter open your eyes," he said, his voice shaking as he grabbed at the wounds on Harry's arms. "Damn it Potter opens your eyes," he said again. The blood didn't slow, just poured through Draco's fingers. This wasn't going to work. He slid his arms under Harry and scooped him up. He wasn't as heavy as he thought he should have been. Draco nearly slipped trying to get out of the stall. Fuck, Draco thought. Fuck, fuck, "FUCK" he finally screamed. He tore out of the room and into the hallway again. He needed to get Potter to the hospital wing. He started to run.

"Harry, Harry listen to me open your bloody eyes. Do you hear me Potter?" he grunted as he continued to run through the hallways. "Somebody please help me please!" he shouted, hoping he could get somebody's attention. The hospital wing was close, he was almost there, he knew he could make it. But he didn't know if Potter could make it.

Finally, he could see the doors. Yes, they were close. He burst through them with the last surge of energy and immediately collapsed on the ground still holding Potter up.

"Please please Madam Pomfrey we need help," he shouted into the empty hospital wing. No one was there. Of course not, she was sitting next to Dumbledore at the feast, of course she's not here she wouldn't need to be. Okay, he thought okay he needed to get to her now. He laid Harry down and tried not to look at the blood pooling on the white floor, he tried to erase the thought that Harry might already be gone. He ran again ran as fast as he could which admittedly was much faster without carrying the unconscious boy. Luckily the great hall was quite close to the hospital wing. He threw the doors to the great hall open and ran inside. He remembered the time in the first year when professor Quirrell ran into the great hall.

The entire room fell silent as Draco sank again to his knees. Dumbledore stood looking down at Draco, who was covered in blood.

"Harry, Harry Potter." he mumbled, "Help him please please help him, he's in the hospital wing." Draco gasped sucking in air that he didn't realize he had been holding his breath. "Don't just stand there! Bloody do something!" he shouted.

"Go on Poppy. Hurry." Dumbledore said as calm as he always was. She disappeared with a snap. "Everyone else go to your dormitories, now," he said exuding so much authority everyone was gone within seconds. Everyone except Draco and of course Harry's beloved friends who were already making their way over to him.

"I would be right in assuming you have no intention of retiring to your rooms for the evening?" Dumbledore asked them.

"We need to know what that death eater did to Harry." Ron spat viciously.

"I wouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions, Weasel," Draco said softly not putting near as much energy he usually put into fighting with the ginger boy.

"Enough. Let's move this conversation to my office."