A/N: I think I panicked a few readers with the last chapter, risking Catnatural's wrath! All is explained...
Chapter Twelve
It took Harry mere minutes to race through the castle towards the Astronomy Tower. He threw himself up the stairs, wand out and ready, taking the steps two at a time, while questions battled furiously for his attention in his head. His heart pounded painfully against the inside of his chest, and he was overwhelmed with an irrational fear that threatened to constrict his ability to breathe. He was certain he'd never moved so fast in his life.
Harry threw open the door, racing into the room before the solid wood could rebound off the wall and send him flying. He shrugged off the cloak instantly.
"Malfoy! Malfoy!" he yelled, casting a wordless, automatic Lumos to make things easier.
It took half a minute's frantic searching before the dark shape registered in his peripheral vision, and he whipped round, wand raised, before he realised what it was. A body, sprawled out unceremoniously on the floor.
Harry hurried closer, panic flitting through him as he considered the possibility that Malfoy was dead – but no, surely he wouldn't have shown up on the map if he was? Would he? Harry ran the last few metres, dropping to his knees at Malfoy's side, noting with extreme relief the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
"Shit." The Slytherin was alive, but unconscious. And apparently not through choice. If it hadn't have been for the dark patch of blood glistening visibly in his pale hair, the arrogant bastard might have looked peaceful – but as it was, Harry was more preoccupied with working out what was going on than noticing the childlike innocence Malfoy's face took on in sleep. From what he could tell, the blonde had been attacked, but his current state prompted more questions than answers.
Harry bit his lip, then pulled out his wand. "Rennervate," he tried.
For a second, he thought the spell hadn't worked. But then, the grey eyes fluttered open slowly, and Malfoy's head turned a little as he made a little sound that might have been a groan of pain.
Harry put his wand back in his pocket, leaning closer so that the blonde's returning vision would encompass him. "Malfoy? Can you hear me?"
The silver gaze locked on him, and Harry decided he was impressed that someone who'd just woken up after a blow to the head could manage to look so disdainful. "Potter? What the hell are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." The Slytherin attempted to sit up and look around, choosing to ignore Harry's comment, but Harry put a firm hand on his chest. "Just a minute, don't move yet. You'll probably fall straight back over anyway."
"Get off me." The blonde's voice was pure hatred, but he stayed put.
"Once I've made sure you aren't going to die immediately, you can get up slowly, and then I'm taking you to the hospital wing, so that Madam Pomfrey can fix your arrogant head and you can get back to kicking puppies. Or whatever it is you do in your spare time."
The idea of going to the hospital wing clearly did not appeal to Malfoy. "What makes you think I need healing, Potter?"
"There's blood in your hair," Harry remarked. "It's yours."
"Really?" Malfoy shot back, the sarcasm dripping from his tone. "And here I expected to wake up, having been attacked, and find someone else's blood in my hair. Silly me."
Harry clenched his jaw, fighting off the oh-so-familiar urge to hit the bastard. Apparently, he hadn't been the first this evening, and the other person hadn't exhibited quite as much restraint. "Look, you stupid prick, just let me cast a healing charm, alright? I refuse to get expelled because you died instead of letting me help, and I ended up in a very compromising position with your body."
"They'd more likely congratulate than expel you." Malfoy's tone was dark, angry, and yet resigned at the same time.
"I doubt that. Murder is still illegal."
The Slytherin pursed his lips at that, but didn't comment. "Fine. Cast your stupid fucking healing charm, and then you can piss off. Speaking of, I'm pretty sure I told you to leave me alone, so I'm naturally extremely curious as to how the fuck you found me."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "That polite request was issued before you were attacked and dumped at the top of the Astronomy Tower."
Malfoy looked around hastily, as if he'd only just realised where they were. Which was quite possible, he supposed. Harry saw the tightening of fists and the flicker of painful recognition before Malfoy returned the superior expression to his face with apparent difficulty. "I never gave conditions," he replied stiffly.
Rolling his eyes, Harry pulled out his wand again, and muttered a quick Episkey. "There. I think your head has healed, on the outside anyway – you've probably got concussion – but there's still blood in your hair."
"Contrary to popular opinion, the centre of my universe is not my hair, Potter," Malfoy snapped harshly. He sat up, a little too fast judging from the grimace that appeared on his face, and glared at Harry. "Now, fuck off."
Harry blinked in shock. "You need to get to the hospital wing –"
"I've been at this school as long as you have, I'm pretty sure I can make it there without your help, Potter," Malfoy snarled. "I'm not interested in being your latest charity case."
"Like it or not, whoever knocked you out is running around somewhere, and you're in no condition to fight them off." Harry pointed out, annoyed.
The Slytherin huffed out an exasperated breath. "Get. Out. It's not difficult."
Harry threw his hands up in the air. "You stupid dickhead!" He whirled, turning towards the door he'd come in by, snatching his Invisibility Cloak on the way out. He sent a furious glance at Malfoy, who returned the favour, and then reached out to wrench the door open.
He never managed the feat. The moment his skin touched the handle of the door, fire erupted around the edges of the wood – bright, hot, and unmistakeably real – and Harry threw himself backwards automatically. He stared in horror as the flames spread, not limited to the doorway, and crept rapidly along the walls, ceiling and windows. Within ten seconds, the entire top floor of the tower was enclosed in a bubble of magical fire, and Harry realised with a sinking feeling that there was no way out.
Harry tried Aguamenti multiple times, yelling the spell furiously. As the jets of water hit the raging flames, they hissed, barely creating a gap in the yellow tongues of fire before turning to steam. Not even Pyra glacia seemed to make any difference – the enchanted blaze was hot, and impervious to any spells he could think to throw at it. In fact, it seemed to be gathering strength, although Harry couldn't see that it was burning anything.
A small, broken sound from behind him made Harry twist round in shock, abandoning his attempts to put out the flames.
Oh.
The realisation thudded home like a blow to the stomach. Harry had known Malfoy was scared of fire – after the near miss in the Room of Requirement, it would have been odd if he wasn't – but now he was presented with the reality, and it was far worse than he'd imagined.
Malfoy wasn't just scared; he was completely and utterly terrified of fire. The Slytherin had hardly moved, still sat on the floor – but now, instead of slouching elegantly, he was curled tightly into a ball, and his face had gone whiter than Harry had ever seen it. His grey eyes jumped around the room, trying to take in every tongue of flame, as if he expected one of them to strike at any minute.
He was whimpering.
"Malfoy!" Harry ran towards the Slytherin, keeping his wand ready. "Malfoy – hey, look at me!"
The blonde's wild gaze focused on him for a second, before flitting away to watch the encroaching fire. Yes, Harry had been right; it were definitely growing, burning hotter and hotter, dancing closer each time it flickered.
Harry tried again, desperate to get the Slytherin's attention, but no matter how many times he said his name, Malfoy seemed oblivious. He was still whimpering, but now the sounds were punctuated with cries and pleas and apologies. He looked half mad, trembling and shuddering, and the more scared he got, the closer the fire crept.
"Please, Malfoy, just listen to me –"
A burning ember landed on one of the blonde's sleeves, glowing bright red. It was out by the time he'd registered it, frozen in shock as he was, but in his current state, that was all it took to send him over the edge.
"Don't hurt me!" Malfoy screamed, rocking backwards and forwards, beating at his clothes in case there was more fire threatening to consume him. Even as the thought ran through Harry's head, the flames redoubled their efforts, roaring and dancing faster and with more energy than before. He watched in dismay as the blaze, which had been limited to the walls and ceiling, started to edge its way along the stone floor. It wasn't feeding off anything but magic, but Harry was sure that when it reached them – and at this rate, it most definitely would – it would act just like a normal fire.
Now Harry felt the panic starting to take over. He grabbed Malfoy by the shoulders. "You have got to listen to me! Just calm down!" he shouted frantically.
"I'm going to die, oh, God, please..." Malfoy wailed. Harry knew that no matter how much he hated the cocky bastard sometimes, he would never have done this to him. The terror of his ex-nemesis was just too heartbreaking.
"Draco, listen to me."
The shock of hearing his first name come out of Harry's mouth must have done something that all the shouted pleas in the world couldn't, because Malfoy turned to Harry with wide eyes and a degree of concentration. It was nothing short of a miracle.
"Draco," Harry repeated, seeing Malfoy focus more on him now. "Draco Malfoy, I will not let you die."
The Slytherin swallowed, and Harry saw tear tracks down his pale cheeks. He took a deep breath, knowing that he didn't have long before Malfoy started screaming again.
"Listen to me, okay? The fire – I think it's linked to you. The more scared you are, the closer it gets. You need to calm down, and it will stop."
"Linked to me?" Malfoy asked hoarsely. Harry nearly collapsed with relief as he realised that the blonde really was listening to him.
"It's an enchanted fire, obviously. I think it was set to go off when someone – you – tried to leave the room; that's why you were left here. You were supposed to be in here alone when the spell was triggered."
The grey eyes blinked, a degree of sanity returning to them. "And I was supposed to go crazy and get burnt to death."
Harry bit his lip, then nodded. "Yeah. I think."
Malfoy threaded his fingers through his hair, pulling until it seemed that he was going to rip his hair out, still rocking backwards and forwards. "Okay. Okay. Breathe."
Watching someone try to conquer one of their greatest fears was not anything Harry had ever had to go through before. He felt his heart go out to Malfoy, who looked nothing short of vulnerable, muttering quietly to himself with drying blood matted into his white-blonde hair. The flames crackled ominously, and Malfoy hadn't stopped shaking. He cringed every time the fire popped loudly, whimpering every so often as he threatened to lose hold of himself again.
"It's okay, Draco." Harry put one hand on Malfoy's shoulder, and squeezed gently.
Slowly but surely, the flames dimmed, and began retreating.
