"Come with me."
Harry pulled Draco up and escorted him out of the bathroom. He pulled him into an unused classroom, which had a few empty cabinets and battered desks in the far corners. The warm rays of the evening sun gave light to the two boys through the darkened window as Draco collapsed against the nearest wall. Harry shut the creaking door and magically locked it, just so they had the scarce feeling of safety. He silently sat next to Draco and brought out a small bandage from the pocket of his jeans, and turned once again to his rival.
"Give me your hand."
Draco gave him a hesitant look, though knowing Harry was his only chance for help. Harry's voice was low and strict, yet an ounce of worry was noticeable in his pace of speech. Draco slowly raised his hand to the boy-who-lived, and winced slightly with pain. As Harry began to bandage his hand, His gaze rested on the Gryffindor's face. He wondered if he knew somehow, knew the cause of his torment. Harry carried a certain aura, which made Draco realise that the Gryffindor knew more to this incident than he had earlier assumed.
Harry took time in bandaging the wounded hand, using a firm yet gentle touch. Thoughts raced through his head… thoughts about rumours. For the past week he had heard from various students the story of Draco's incident. He had believed that the rumours had been derived from the Slytherin house itself, as some sort of hoax. Harry knew many did not believe that these rumours were true… but all rumours have to begin from a source. The source may be one thread of information, but that could be the key to everything.
Harry alone knew part of these whisperings were reality. Many had told him that Draco's father, Lucius, had turned on him at a gathering of the Death Eaters with Voldemort, as he had declined the Dark Mark. Harry had learned a few months back that Draco has no interest with the Death Eaters, though this came as an understandable surprise. Harry privately believed this story, though he did not know how Lucius had harassed Draco.
This rumour had dug into him, causing him to watch Draco's every move. Harry, in time, had begun to care for the Slytherin. He couldn't deny it… He loved him. He dared not tell his friends of these feelings…He had decided to keep them to himself. His love for Draco had caused Harry to become extremely concerned when he heard of the "news". As Harry watched him, he knew the rumours were no lies. It had happened, and Draco needed help.
Draco watched as Harry slid the fastening pin into the meshed fabric. Harry still had hold of his hand once he had finished. Draco had calmed down a lot since he had been in the stillness with Harry, and had nearly gained composure. Curiosity spread through him as to why Harry cared about him so, and his stormy grey eyes locked back with Emerald.
"Draco…" Harry's voice spoke, its quiet and ragged sound dripping with worry. Draco knew he was about to be questioned, and his fear started to return…
"What… what did he do to you?"
