"So…You understand the circumstances of this curse, and what it will do to you-"
Draco cut across Harry rather rudely, "Yes, I know, Potter."
He glared at the boy across from him, feeling irrationally angry.
"Lets cut to the point, okay?" Draco said quietly. "I'm dying."
The two words rang through the silence of them, absurdly bouncing off the walls and sounding as if they had been yelled rather than whispered.
Draco looked into the emerald green eyes across from him, that shone like stones and reflected the light in the dimly lit room. He saw something in them, something akin to pity, sympathy.
"Dra-Draco…I'm so sorry." Harry mumbled, his face falling.
Draco rose from his seat, a scowl on his face, his limbs shaking with suppressed rage.
"How dare you even look at my like that! How dare you come into my home and-and-apologize to me!" He shouted. Harry stared at him unflinchingly, his brow furrowed.
"How dare you even try to make this about you Potter!" He shouted, dimly feeling tears grace his cheeks.
His lips began to quiver and he dropped to the floor, slid down the wall, resting with his knees in front of him.
And for the first time since he was born, even more than in his sixth year, Draco cried. And he really cried, heart wrenching sobs that shook the entire room….and yet no one came to him, no one breathed a word.
Draco was dimly aware that he was shaking and great, salty tears were pouring down his face. He even forgot that his life-long (or meant to be life-long) nemesis was in the same room as him.
"You know," Harry began in a sad, weak little voice. "I've faced death a lot…I even thought I would die once, when I faced Voldemort…It's not as scary…If you have someone there with you.."
Draco felt a body sit down in front of him, felt arms wrap around his shaking, pale form.
"You won't be alone, Draco." Harry whispered into his ear, "I'll make sure of it."
That day had been a week ago, When Draco and Harry had established a…sort of friendship.
Sure, Draco still annoyed Harry to death and Harry still brought out the most sniveling, evil ferret-ness in Draco, but they were definitely more kind to each other.
They had sat down and discussed the phases of Draco's ailment.
First month: Insomnia, Mild memory loss.
Second month: Clumsiness, Internal bleeding possible, if bruises appear.
Third month: Mild deterioration of muscles, Forgetfulness, Lose of motor skills.
Fourth month: Hearing impairments, some lose of movement may occur.
Fifth month: Lose of sight.
Sixth month: Organs began to fail, and on the 31st, the body finally shuts down.
Draco had noticed that the symptoms of the first month were already occurring. He hadn't slept very well in the past few days and just yesterday he had decided to make cookies, but had burnt them after forgetting to check on them. But Draco never forgot to do anything. Ever.
All these thoughts may have disturbed him, but nothing bothered him more than the eve of Harry Potter's move into his house.
It wasn't like it bothered him, per say, He just felt they might not get on so well.
He also figured that this curse might make him look, well….Less than attractive.
And Harry was attractive. Oh, yes…Draco could admit it.
But he felt like it would be…embarrassing, painful even for anyone to see him in such a state of vulnerability. No it just wouldn't do.
Draco had told himself that again and again. It just won't do. Potter must not move in.
But alas, here he was, helping Harry direct his various suitcases up the stairs with his wand.
The other boy had been acting odd as of late. Draco had caught him staring at him quite a bit today….And despite his very brave Gryffindor demeanor, He would snap his gaze away or pretend to be staring at a rather uninteresting painting behind Draco.
At this, Draco would roll his eyes and stomp away.
He didn't have time to play 'Chase the Gryffindor.'
No lyric for this chap....I'm lazy...:)
I'm drinking lemonade amp energy drink O.O
I listened to coldplay while writing this, the songs make me sad but optimistic