Title: Protective Bonds
By: Sadie DragonFire
Part: 4-5/?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all plots and characters portrayed therein are not mine. Good thing too. The honor goes to JK Rowling.
Rating For these Parts: PG13
Warning: I'm strange. And I'm a tease, so don't expect things to go very *fast*. May be a few spoilers and some wrong information or misspelled names. Also, some suggestions of Ron/Hermione, but there is nothing major.
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Feedback: Public, any and all, please.
Second Warning:
Be aware, this fanfic contains subjects of a slashy nature. This means boys being interested in other boys. If this offends, then please leave now before you upset yourself.
Harry and Draco were still sprawled in their respective positions when Madam Pomfrey came back with some fresh robes. They continued to 'ignore' each other through an utterly embarrassing and awkward dressing session. Basically, Harry familiarized himself with the pattern on the wall while he squirmed out of and into his clothing; Draco rested a hand on his shoulder and hummed stripper music. He was refreshingly silent when it came his turn to change.
The ignoring continued as they were given homework to occupy their time. Harry was glad, both for the distraction work provided and the silence Draco was currently providing, even if it wasn't perfect silence. Ignorance was certainly bliss, but it was hard to ignore someone leaning against you and breathing in your ear. Well, maybe not *in* his ear, but close enough to be a bother.
[I wonder what he would say if I told him to stop breathing.] Harry's mouth quirked slightly. [Something insulting I'd wager.] Harry was lying on his stomach on the bed. Draco sprawled beside him, also on his stomach, and taking up more space then should be legal under the laws of science. Or magic for that matter. Harry concentrated on his book and not falling of the bed.
They had woken up in the early afternoon and the day was now fading into evening. Madam Pomfrey had checked on them twice and he could hear other students being treated in the main room for the hospital wing, but no one else came around. Harry wondered why Dumbledore hadn't shown up. He would have least expected Professor McGonagall to make an appearance, to scold him if nothing more. And Snape-well, he was still surprised the Professor hadn't swooped in like an eagle for the kill, set on retribution for messing with his favorite student. Harry was almost curious about what Draco thought of his protectors continued absence, but not curious enough to actually ask.
It was strange, just the two of them in the otherwise empty ward. In a way, it was lonely, but at the same time it was hard to be lonely with someone crowded up next to you. Draco's elbow dug into his side for a moment, moved when he lifted his arm to turn a page, and returned, but with less force. It was still irrationally annoying. [The book. Just read the book.]
[…After the twelfth time Nicholas Marduk found Alanna Tiamat listening in on certain private affairs, it became apparent that even though Animagi were rare, there still had to be someway to keep track of them…]
"Your lips move when you read, did you know that?" The usually drawling, bored tone was gone, leaving Draco sounding almost pleasant. Perish the thought.
Harry glanced at him briefly from the corner of his eye, and then focused on the book with renewed vigor. […At first, a very long and ridiculously complicated form was designed to be filled out by any wizard who'd preformed the Animagus spell. It coved fifty pages and questioned everything from the wizard's mother's maiden name to which brand of toothpaste they used…]
"You're doing it again."
Harry pressed his lips tightly together and plowed onward. […After much debate, the form was thrown out and…]
"What are you reading anyways?" Draco leaned closer, forehead brushing his and nearly unsetting his glasses. Harry jerked back.
"Malfoy! Knock it off." He frowned, tilting his head away from Draco. "I thought we were ignoring each other."
"Hmm…I'm bored." Draco lifted the cover of the book and partially closed it to read the title, "'Wizard to Animal: A History on Animagus'. Huh, dull read."
"You're bored? So do homework! Entertain yourself." Harry reached down and, with a feeling of great relief, removed Draco's elbow from his side. Draco kicked the bed, nearly catching Harry's legs, but tucked his arm closer to his body.
"That was one talent I never did pick up. Entertaining myself, that is. I always had playmates as a child. And many friends when I grew up," He turned onto his side, still facing Harry, one slim hand resting on Harry's bare elbow. "I suspect you'd have gotten really good at it, though. Playing all by yourself in that Muggle house. Or did you have friends?"
"I'm not going to tell you." Harry stated, managing to keep his face blank. Why Draco's words bothered him was beyond him, but for some reason, he couldn't keep back the memories of sitting quietly in the closet, listening to Dudley and his friends playing outside. Or of hiding away in a corner of the play yard, hoping he would be ignored and hurting because he was ignored.
"My father always made sure there was someone around to amuse me." Draco continued, fingers flexing on Harry's arm.
"And I'm sure he'd toss some orders around if no one was forthcoming." Harry turned a page in his book, not really seeing the letters. Maybe Malfoy had some condition that prevented him from being silent for very long.
"That was never a problem." The tone of his voice indicated that subject line was dead. Harry reminded himself to bring it up again later. "One of my friends was this little witch named Hoshi, if I remember right. Tiny black-haired girl, looked like a doll." He paused. "Wonder what happened to her."
"Hmm. Interesting. Are you finished?" Harry closed his book, couldn't figure out why he had, and reopened it.
"I'm still bored."
"So be bored."
"You're a rotten companion." Draco noted, still disturbingly pleasant.
"Since when was I *your* companion?" Harry gritted his teeth. [This must be some new form of torture on his part. 'Killing with kindness', that must be it. Not that I would call this kind…]
"What else am I supposed to call you?" Draco asked reasonably.
"Potter. Or Harry. That should do." Determined to end this conversation, Harry turned onto his side, back facing Draco, propped his head on his hand and once again tried to read the (admittedly dull) book. Draco's touch followed his movement, brushing up his arm and under the sleeve of his robe, fingers trailing along the soft flesh of his inner arm. He shivered and hoped desperately that Draco wouldn't notice.
"I *meant*," Draco continued with gentle emphasis, "When we're in public and people ask about you, what should I tell them? I couldn't possibly call you a friend. To bad I can't call you my servant boy…"
Harry cast a nasty look over his shoulder. "Say that and I have every right to tell people that you were a monkey I transformed into a human by accident and now I can't get ride of you."
"A monkey?"
"Yes. And a real nasty one, too. Pissed all over my room and hit on my Aunt Petunia." Draco had a 'You're kidding, right?' look on his face. "Anyway, what do you mean by public? I reckon all the school knows about this by now, won't matter one way or the other what you tell them."
"We aren't going to spend the entire year cooped up in Hogwarts, are we? I, for one, plan on going home for the holidays and spending a weekend or three in Hogsmead." Those damned fingers rubbed his skin lightly, as if trying to draw another shiver out of him.
[Malfoy, you would have to haul me kicking, screaming, and biting to your parents house-for the holidays or otherwise.] "I doubt we'll be doing either of those until Headmaster finds away to explain it."
[Good thing Rita Skeeter isn't writing about me anymore. I can just see the headlines she'd come up with for this. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy: Secret Lovers" or some such nastiness. Ugh.] He shuddered. [Thank God. Thank you Hermione for dealing with her. It's almost enough to make me forgive you for landing me with Draco…]
"What I want to know is why I haven't heard about my father yet."
[Almost.]
"Despite any ideas to the contrary, the world does not revolve around the two of us," Harry reminded him, "Life still goes on. I'm certain they're busy with other stuff right now." [Or are finding ways *not* to tell your father. I'm such an idiot for agreeing to do this.] And that irked him the most. No one had forced him into this, he hadn't been tied up, or blackmailed, or even nagged particularly hard. He'd just agreed to it. [There's a lesson in this all of this. I just know it.]
"Hmm…" Even without words, Draco managed to sound both doubting and scornful. "Sure Potter, sure."
"Oh, bugger off." Harry snapped, his patience wearing thin.
"Love to, but can't." The bed jumped as Draco suddenly tumbled onto his other side so he was pressed back-to-back with Harry, bare ankles touching. "Now I'm hungry."
"Demanding snot, aren't you? And do you have to lie so close?" Harry frowned; desperately wanting to squirm away and knowing doing so would land him on the floor.
"Why?" He could almost hear Draco's grin, "Embarrassed?"
"No."
"Liar." Draco snickered. He fell silent, making no effort to move. Harry chewed on his tongue and focused on not blushing.
[Damn him, damn him.] Harry looked down at his book, having nearly forgotten it in the bickering. [Deal with it; I have to deal with it. I'm going to be with him for a very long time.] Against him, Draco sighed deeply.
"I *am* hungry."
"That's nice."
Ron collapsed into one of the chairs in the Gryffindor common room with an explosive breath. "Well…damn." He announced, apparently lacking any other descriptive terms for the current situation.
Hermione sat opposite and seemed to agree with him, simply because she didn't argue his statement. Ron watched her uncertainly, waiting for a scathing comment, and was actually at bit of a loss when none was forthcoming. The common room was mostly empty, only a few other Gryffindors were there and they ignored the quiet pair.
"We…we couldn't have known." Ron ventured. Hermione finger-combed her wild mane and cast a look at the ceiling.
"No. And maybe that's why we shouldn't have done it." She stretched out her arms and then let them fall in her lap. Ron waited. As if sensing this, she glanced at him. "I'm not going to nag you, if that's what you're wondering. Much as I'd like to," deep sigh, "It won't do anyone any good. Harry needs our support, not our bickering."
Ron blinked, then grinned. "Well, nice to see you agree."
Hermione scowled. Ron beamed. After a short staring contest, she threw her hands up in defeat, stood from her chair, and stomped off muttering uncomplimentary things about Ron's ancestry.
Ron watched her go with a fair amount of amusement. After she vanished up the stairs to the dorms, Ron rested his head against the back of the armchair and stared into the fire. The amusement faded from his features.
"Sorry, Harry." He said softly, watching the dancing forms of the flame as the wood beneath turned to ash and sparks floated up the chimney.
Harry woke that morning to the feeling of being smothered and crushed. For an awful moment, he fought against the restraint; until that restraint cursed at him and squashed him a little firmer. Harry stopped struggling and let his foggy thoughts clear. He realized that there was cloth over his mouth and something heavy and warm inside the cloth. The weight pressing him down was definitely body shaped.
[Oh, right, Malfoy.] He reached up and removed Draco's arm from across his face. After a long minute of blinking in the dim pre-morning light, Harry took stock of the situation.
It appeared that even though, the night before, they had gone through all the trouble of pushing two beds together and merging the mattresses so the two boys would have enough room, Draco had somehow ended up sprawled on top of him. The other boy was on his back, head resting on Harry's upper right bicep, left arm curled above his head-and over Harry's face. The blankets had been pushed down and tangled around both their legs, leaving Harry hot and sweaty where Draco crushed him, and cold where he didn't.
"Wonderful, you're a bed hog." His shoulder hurt from Draco's weight. The blonde mumbled something and squirmed, trying to get more comfortable on his 'pillow'. Harry squeak in protest and sheer mortification. Coiling his fingers around Draco's hand, he used his legs and free hand to slid the other off of him.
Draco moved without protest, curling onto his side the instant he was on the mattress and tucking the hand Harry held under his cheek. Harry breathed harshly, cheeks flaming, and heart pounding. He stared down at Draco, seeing only a pale blur with dark marking for features and a yellowish blur for hair.
[Crap.] He thought incoherently. [Crap.] Draco's breaths ghosted out over his hand. Harry closed his eyes and settled back down on the bed, using his free hand to untangle the blankets and pull them over his body. Still fuzzy and leaden with sleep, Harry focused on his breathing until dreams claimed him again.
There are few things in life that bother you to the point of being willing to chew off your own arm or jump out of a fourth floor window just so you can escape to freedom. Being forced to sit quietly while his archrival talked about him with his less-than-savory friends was one of those things. Though, to be fair, they weren't talking about him directly-but they did discuss his friends, his House, the teachers, and just about anyone else who liked him or whom he liked. It was like listening to someone rake fingernails down a chalkboard, while singing 'The Song that Never Ends' off key.
"---They *say* that the counter spell won't work, but *I'm* not entirely sure I believe it. Well, they'll just see when my father gets here, he'll make sure things are set right---"
Harry was beginning to strongly hate the term 'my father'. At least they'd shifted subjects.
"---I wouldn't be surprised if the counter spell does work and they're just prolonging this to make me suffer. They're all on Potter's side anyway---"
Never mind. Harry resisted the urge to pinch Draco. Any and all pleasantness that had existed between them last night and this morning was officially gone.
They sat pressed back-to-back, though Harry was hunched forward since he was bearing all of Draco's weight. The other teen was quite comfortable on his new chair, thank you very much, and showed no inclination to move or spare Harry any more back pain. They'd found that didn't need skin-to-skin contact when they were this close, but that didn't mean Harry could stop himself from occasionally reaching back to rub his fingers or knuckles over Draco's bare neck. The only consolation was that Draco kept on touching him too, and in front of Crabbe and Goyle to boot.
"---Of course, he gets to suffer with me. Apparently Granger was the one to find the spell…"
"And Potter was the one stupid enough to use it." Crabbe spoke up diversely, seemingly pleased at the idea of talking about Harry as if he wasn't there. Harry made a face at his parchment and was surprised to feel Draco tense up slightly.
"Well, that's hard to say." Draco edged, his voice dropping a few degrees. "Certainly, though, Weasley was the one to goad him into it. I doubt he'd do anything without his cronies support---"
[God, I hate you.] Harry thought viscously. As if responding to the thought, Draco's fingers brushed over the back of his neck, trailing down to his shoulder. The hand left. Harry applied some strength to push Draco forward, but let himself sag back when Draco continued to play dead weight.
"---I must admit, I am amazed that Granger didn't tattle on them. From the impression *I* got, she's pretty particular about following the rules."
Harry thought back to when Hermione helped him and Ron disguise themselves as Crabbe and Goyle. He smiled, [Shows what you know.]
"So, Potter, did you bribe her into being quiet about it?"
It took Harry, still smiling over old memories, a few seconds to realize Draco was talking to him. "What?" He tried to straighten up again without much success.
"Did you bribe Hermione Granger into being quiet about your little spell casting?" Draco clearly stated each word, his tone patronizing, and applied more of his weight. Harry twisted his head around as best he could and gave Draco a 'oh, come off it' frown.
Before he could comment, Goyle let out a deep snort. "What did ya do, Potter? Kiss her?" Draco let out a sound amazingly like a hiss and sat up straight, but Goyle wasn't finished. "Bet it was the only action she's had in a long time!"
"Now look you---" Harry started sharply, twisting his body around to look Goyle full in the face. He didn't get very far into the realm of insults when Professor McGonagall strode into the ward.
Her very presence put an abrupt stop to any conversation has she gazed down at the gathered teens with an expression that would have done her warrior goddess namesake proud. Crabbe and Goyle had the grace to look slightly guilty, Draco just raised his chin higher, and Harry blinked at her.
"I believe lunch is over now. Vincent, Gregory, you have classes."
"Yes, Professor." The two said in sulky unison. Biding Draco farewell and shooting nasty scowls at Harry, they headed out the door past McGonagall. The Professor herself stood immobile as she regarded the unfortunate pair on the bed.
Without thinking about it, Harry shifted himself closer to and around Draco, putting himself more into McGonagall's line of sight. She liked him better than Draco, anyway, so anything she did or said to him would be less severe, and that made him feel better. Draco allowed the rearrangement, but continued to watch the Professor with something like suspicion.
For her account, Minerva McGonagall closed her eyes, hoped she would have the patience to handle this, and allowed herself a few minutes to doubt her choice in becoming a teacher at Hogwarts. She didn't think about it very often, no more than once a decade or so. The last time had been when a Hufflepuff had turned the hair of every person in the entire school lime green. It took literally weeks to get rid of and the poor kid was nearly lynched by his schoolmates in the mean time.
"Well, its good to see you up and about, so to speak. You're not suffering too greatly from your predicament," she purposefully ignored Draco's disbelieving snort, "For which I am relieved. However, certain adjustments will have to be made for your…unique position."
When the two nodded in understanding, Minerva walked further into the room and came to rest in one of the high-backed armchairs meant for those visiting patients. "Headmaster Dumbledore and few others are working the arrangements of your new living quarters---"
"Wait, wait," Harry interrupted, pulling his legs under him and moving so he was more in front of Draco and not half sprawled across his lap. "New rooms?"
"Certainly, you didn't expect to bring Draco into the Gryffindor dorms, did you?" She questioned with perfect logic, the kind that makes you feel stupid for not thinking of it yourself. Harry blushed slightly. "And I'd imagine your fellow housemates would take exception to a Gryffindor in their common room, Mr. Malfoy." Draco's mouth snapped closed on whatever statement was forthcoming.
"We're still debating the subject of whether or not you get your own bathroom and shower, but otherwise, your rooms should be ready in a few more days. It will have its own password that you can change as you see fit, though I would suggest *not* sharing it with any of your friends. For the sake of," something that threatened to become a smile twitched her mouth, "Domestic tranquility if nothing else. We don't expect you to start classes until you've---gotten used to each other. That is, in a week or so. Before that, Professor Snape and I will have to discuss the arrangement of your classes with you."
[That's right, expect for Care of Magical Creatures and Potions, we have our classes at different times,] Harry thought, shifting so Draco's knee wasn't pressed so firmly into his back.
"I hope you will be able to arrange seating during mealtimes between yourselves," she raised her eyebrow at them, "Without too much fighting, I dare to hope."
Draco managed a bright, innocent smile and Harry gave her a slightly more sarcastic version of the same. Her expression remained unchanging.
"Either way, don't expect any of the staff to get involved and I would just as soon you *not* get any of the other students involved. Though with your friends, that's going to be somewhat more difficult." Draco made a vaguely agreeing sound. Harry concurred with the idea, but remained silent.
It felt strange to be talking about him and Draco together this way. It all sounded so very-permanent. The 'outside' world of Hogwarts that had seemed so distant up till that point was returning full force. More than that, it was being adjusted to suit their new needs. Well, no, maybe that was taking it too far. The new rooms were just because of the bad blood between Slytherins and Gryffindors. If Draco were a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, it might have been different.
"Well, doesn't matter. I am *not* sitting with Gryffindors *or* Weasleys." Draco intoned firmly.
"I'm not sitting with Slytherins." Harry snapped in reply.
"Then I guess you'll both have to sit on the floor with your dinners." McGonagall informed them reasonably. Harry stared at her in amazement as something like amusement danced in her eyes. "Well, that's all I---no, wait. I almost forgot." She reached into her sleeve and pulled free her wand. "Pensum domesticum!" She announced with a practiced flick of her wrist.
A large pile of books and rolled parchment appeared out of thin air and landed on the foot of the bed with a force that caused Harry and Draco to bounce. A few loose scrolls rolled aimlessly onto the floor.
"That's your class work for all of today and tomorrow and your homework assignments. You'll have to talk to your classmates about notes, but most of the Professors provided all the information you'll need."
"Look at all this Potions work!" Draco exclaimed as he shifted through the mass.
"The majority of that is Mr. Potter's."
Draco looked as though his day had greatly improved. "Ah, good." Harry wrinkled his nose and moved a heavy volume off the edge of his robe. Didn't that just figure?
Minerva stood with a deep breath and shook out her clothes. "That's all I have for today. I *strongly* hope you two will come to---" She stopped and seemed to re-think her words. "Will learn to tolerate each other, if nothing else."
The way she added on the last statement prickled Harry's 'other people know something you don't' radar. But Draco's chortled "This is going take you *hours*", distracted him from following up on the feeling.
Draco had never believed the saying "tension thick enough to cut", but he could now understand what it meant.
He and Harry had started in on the pile of work shortly after McGonagall left, and he'd been positively *thrilled* at the sheer amount of homework Snape had given Harry. The kind Professor Snape had also given Draco himself a more limited amount, even less than he might normally five. It certainly made up for his favorite teacher's continued absence. None of the other teachers had been as considerate in regard to Draco's workload, but he didn't really expect them to be.
They ended up playing a bizarre sort of musical chairs in the search for a comfortable position to study and write in. The best was squashed together in the massive armchair with the tray from lunch braced on the arms for a makeshift table. However, it was a little too intimate for his increasingly traitorous hormones to tolerate (damn them), so they'd ended up with two of the smaller chairs pulled *really* close together.
Now regular classes were over and their friends had come to visit them.
That's where the tension comes in.
Weasley and Granger had shown a few minutes before Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy had. Draco was at fist pleased with the back up, and the chance to harrow Potter's friends when they weren't likely to get away, but he was beginning to strongly wish they would all go away.
Granger was making an obvious point to be pleasant, but Ron wasn't even trying. He sat there eyeing the two larger teens and just waiting for them to make a move. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles, looked threatening, and were generally bad conversationalists.
And Pansy---
"Oh, Draco, this just absolutely *awful*! I don't understand *why* the teachers aren't handling this *properly* and I'm just going to have to tell my mother and Great-Uncle Taliesin are *both* in the Ministry and I'm *certain* they'll be able to do *something*---"
"Thank you, Pansy love, that would be splendid." He broke into her stream of words with the standard flirting manner he'd adopted for all rich Slytherin girls, on the off chance he may have to marry one when he got older.
She beamed at him blissfully and continued on without missing a beat. "---In that case I'll send them an owl before I go to bed tonight. You'll be out of this whole mess in no time, but until then I'll come and visit you everyday so you don't have just *him* for company---"
Aware that was being talked about, Harry leaned further into Draco's side and cast a glance at where Pansy sat on a stool next to Draco's chair. He snorted softly and turned his attention back to where Hermione was explaining his Charm's homework. Draco decided it prudent to ignore him.
Strange, he hadn't noticed before how annoying Pansy was when she got into one of her rambles. She isn't his favorite person, or even one of his closer friends, and he didn't always enjoy her company. She is, however, very flattering that's always nice when he needed a good ego boost. She's also better at *intelligent* conversation than his two tag-alongs are.
"---But you're strong and I know it won't---"
He smiled and nodded to show he was interested, but otherwise let his attention wander. It didn't wander very far. Harry's weight felt rather nice against his side and he could occasionally hear the other boy's voice through Pansy's brattle. Draco wasn't quite sure what twist of fate or stupidity (actually, he had some good guesses on the latter) had landed him bond to Harry Potter, but it was turning out to be interesting.
In his more honest moments, Draco admitted that he had always held some fascination for Harry. The boy had interested him from when they first met at the clothes shop. He'd looked like some lost orphan, in his badly fitted Muggle clothes and hair that had never seen a proper brushing. Draco should have known he wasn't worth much when he'd gone with Hagrid. But when Draco learned that the rag-tag boy was really the famous Harry Potter…
Well, he wasn't stupid. You don't just go and make enemies with someone whose got half the wizarding world on his side, not to mention is the only survivor of an attack from You-Know-Who. It's bad politics at the very least (He's father had never seemed to understand that. Of course, where Luicus Malfoy had ideals to uphold, Draco had a survival plan). Still, when Harry went and choose Ron Weasley over *him*…that had been unforgivable insult. It had hurt too. No one ever turned down his friendship or at least the offer to be his ally. And to be turned down in favor of a poor nobody who wasn't worthy enough to shine his shoes had been the worse.
So, he planned to make Potter pay for this slight. For some reason though, it never turned out the way he planned. Potter got him as many times as he got Potter and he just couldn't give up on it, he couldn't let Potter win and the look on his face whenever Draco bested him was *always* worth it. Then Harry had started featuring in his wet dreams sometime during Fifth year.
That had been just awful. And it had kept on happening. It really wasn't something he thought about ---ever---, just ignored and hoped that maybe if he kept on ignoring it, dream-Harry would eventually become dream-someone else. Expect that now, lucky him, he actually had the *real* Harry in his bed. And currently playing a limpet.
His wandering thoughts returned to their normal location and informed him that something had happened while he was off in La la land. Pansy had gotten to her feet, hands braced on her hips and currently sporting her best 'I am not amused' expression. "You shouldn't cling to Draco like that!"
"I'm not clinging to him!" Harry snapped defensively, clinging to Draco. Draco raised a pale eyebrow. [Oh, yeah?]
"I don't see why you have to sit so close! I don't think Draco likes it!" She returned haughtily.
"I know he doesn't, but that's beside the point." Harry informed, hitching a little closer as the Slytherin girl put, what she probably thought was, a comforting hand on Draco's shoulder.
"It's not really your place to get involved." Hermione spoke up, book half closed in her lap, a disapproving frown on her face. Pansy's head snapped in her direction.
"Oh? And you are you to say anything Muh…"
The pending insult was averted when Ron let out a yell that could have been "Stupid ass" or "Stud bass", it was hard to tell he was that angry, and threw himself at Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy's sentence ended in a squeal. Hermione, the only remotely smart Gryffindor in existence, leapt to her feet and backpedaled a safe distance from the fight.
Harry, of course, tried jump *into* the battle. Draco stopped with an arm about the middle and dragged him back. "Hey, knock it off!" Harry protested, still indent on rescuing his friend.
"Look, you get into that and I get into that. I don't fancy getting involved." [Nor seeing you beat up, for that matter.] Harry twisted around and glanced at Draco with one grass green eye, as if trying to judge what he meant by that. He didn't comment though, just turned his attention back to the fight.
Draco just held onto him and waited for Madam Pomfrey to show up and settle the mess. Why did these things always happen to him, anyways?
To be continued...
I bet you're all ready to lynch me---or tie to my computer and deny me food and water until I finish the next part. I know I'm bad, I take forever to get out each part. Forgive me. ::bows::
--Sadie
DragonFire
