Harry stood in the door of the hospital wing, his invisibility cloak wrapped tightly around him. The darkness of the infirmary was broken by a single lit lamp beside the bed of the one patient unfortunate enough to stay the night. The light ghosted over the flawless pale skin and the dark pink of lips. It also threw into sharp relief the sharp cheekbones and too skinny body under the covers. Harry let out the breath he'd been unconsciously holding the whole short walk to the hospital wing and he sagged to the wall. The blonde was safe.

He had been so afraid that afternoon when he had stood by as his love was hurt. The blood pouring over pale skin and the color draining from the angel face had been too much for Harry, and he felt the accident had been his fault. The afternoon with Hermione and Ron had been torture, pretending he felt no pull toward the infirmary or the urge to cry into his pillows. But they would not understand his fear or concern about the accident, it was a provoked attack after all. That did not matter to Harry, who had left the tower as soon as he had heard Ron's snores begin.

Now he stood in the darkness and drank in his fill of the beautiful picture before him. Such innocence and grace, such beauty and fear hidden beneath such a difficult shell. Harry had been intrigued for so long, but the accident had convinced him that it was love and that he could never go back. With a quiet sigh, he walked silently toward the bed to look down on the sleeping angel. The face was still too pale and drawn from blood loss, but it would return with rest. Madame Pomfrey could heal much worse, he knew.

In one quick movement, Harry leaned down and kissed the pale, perfect forehead. " I'm sorry about the accident" he whispered as he walked toward the door. Harry turned as he reached it to look back just once more, "I love you Draco".