Barry Potter - Chapter 11

"How long are you going to be away?"
Barry looked down at Jenni's head, which was resting gently on his shoulder. A small grin flickered across his face. "You don't care that I'm going to meet my brother?"
She rolled her eyes, lifting her head to look at him. "I going to miss you."
"I'll miss you too."
"I know..." Jenni let her head drop back onto Barry's shoulder. He gently placed a kiss on her forehead before resting his own head on hers. They gazed out at the sea for a while, lost in their own thoughts.

Malfoy stumbled forward across the grounds. The bloody nurse hadn't healed his leg right after he "fell down the stairs." Stupid muggle-lover. He hated them all.
He nearly turned to make a snide remark to Goyle, but caught himself. Goyle had been expelled the week before, and Draco now found himself helpless without either of his sidekicks. Kicking a clod of dirt angrily with his good leg, he kept walking toward the animal pen.
A small group of Slytherins and Gryffindors were huddled around it, though the pen was deserted. As he moved toward the group, it parted before him, leaving a direct path to where Harry was standing with Hermione and Ron.
Draco paused. The three friends hadn't spoken to him since the Moone sisters' arrest. Dean hadn't either, but then Dean had fallen ill the night of the Yule Ball, and hadn't spoken to anyone since. Alden had, that was for sure. His ears still rang from their last conversation, which had escalated to yelling in under a minute. But the hardest was not getting any response from the three now chatting before him.
He hated Harry Potter. End of story. Arrogant brat, who could like him? Everyone else in the whole damn world, that's all.
He wasn't so sure about Ron now. He had actually spoken with Ron this year, not simply bickered with, but spoken with. Once you got to know him, he wasn't half bad. In fact, he was a pleasant chap, very funny. But a Gryffindor, a muggle-lover, and a Weasly. What a shame.
Hermione... damn her. End of story.
Having rapidly summed it all up, Draco began moving forward again, eyes glaring. Harry's eyes darted toward him, matching his glare. Unfazed, Draco walked up to them, only stumbling once because of his bloody leg.
"What's going on?" His face assumed its usual smirk as his eyes casually swung over the grounds. "Where's the half-giant?"
Silently, Harry's muscles tensed. Since the arrest, he had been waiting for an opportunity to kill Malfoy. Now was as good a time as any. His eyes fixed on Malfoy's throat, and he prepared to spring.
A thin hand caught him across the chest, and he darted a glance at Hermione. She shook her head, withdrawing the hand but looking at him in a warning manner. Harry allowed himself to relax. He hadn't wanted to fight with Malfoy, anyway.
"Well?" Malfoy fixed his eyes once again on Harry's face, daring him to make a move. Draco knew he had the disadvantage due to his leg, but he figured he could hold Harry off with some practical applications of the Dark Arts. His smirk tried to spread across his face, but it was frozen by the pain that shot through the forming scab on his cheek.
Not bothering to respond, Harry tossed a piece of parchment at Draco. His smirk replaced by a half-grin, he read aloud, "'Dear class, I won't be here today, but I expect someone to pop 'round and keep you occupied. Your teacher, Hagrid.' So?" Draco's eyes once again looked over the grounds. "Where's the replacement giant?"
"Please!" Hermione found herself hissing, though she wasn't speaking with Draco. He turned to her in surprise, eyebrows raised slightly despite the pain in his cheek.
"Please what?" Draco managed to ask, recovering from the shock that she had addressed him.
Hermione closed and opened her eyes, taking a deep breath. She had just about had it with Malfoy... "I'm tired of you ratting on Hagrid because he's not a pure-blood human."
"He's not a pure-blood anything!" Draco countered, old gleam in his eyes as a few Slytherins snickered. This was the way it was supposed to be; Malfoy vs. Potter, Weasly, or Granger.
"It doesn't matter!" Hermione snapped, rolling her hands into fists. Harry put a hand on her shoulder, but Hermione pulled herself away, eyes still locked with Draco's.
Draco laughed, "What, Potter? Not strong enough to restrain a girl? Too powerful, is she?"
The Slytherin laughter grew as Harry lunged at Draco, only held back at the last moment by Ron. Harry tried to break Ron's grasp, but his friend was holding onto his arms with a firmer grip than Harry had ever felt from him before. This only increased the howls of laughter from Draco and the Slytherins. It hurt to laugh, and Draco grimaced, settling for his usual smirk over fits of laughter.
"Well, well, well. Sympathizing with the enemy?" Draco's eyes now rested on Ron, who still held Harry back though he glared at Malfoy. "Gone soft, have we, Weasly?"
No one was to sure what happened next, especially Hermione and Draco. Something in Hermione's enraged brain snapped, and she threw her hands into her pocket. From it she drew a knife she hardly recognized as her own, shouted something about making fun of her friends, and stabbed Draco.
The others all froze, standing stock still as they watched the knife pierce Malfoy's thin robes and heard the odd smack as the steel entered his flesh. After a second of shock, Hermione released the blade, staggering backward with her eyes on Draco's face.
Draco stood still, mouth slightly open. Slowly, gingerly, he lowered his head until he could see the knife where it protruded from his stomach. His breath was coming in large, uneven gasps as he tried to raise his head again. Before he could, he sank to his knees, falling backward into open arms. He blinked, thinking the pain was playing tricks on him. It wasn't; after recovering slightly from the moment of violence, Hermione had rushed forward and caught Draco as he fell.
She gently held his head in her arms, studying his face as he closed his eyes. Her own was pale, and her entire frame was shaking slightly. "Draco, I... I..."
Harry had long stopped struggling, and Ron had long since loosened his grip. The two boys stood there, dumb with shock. There was silence for a moment, broken only by the raspy, gasping breath of Draco where he lay in Hermione's arms.
At length it occurred to Harry that the knife was still in Draco's stomach. He stumbled forward, bending down next to Hermione and gently grasping the knife's protruding handle. As he touched it, Draco inhaled deeply, eyes opening then slamming shut again in pain. Harry didn't seem to notice, but mechanically wrenched the knife from Draco's stomach. A few students gasped and recoiled as thick red blood began flowing from the wound, staining Draco's robes and even falling a little onto Hermione's. Harry stared dumbly at the wound, at the blood, at the knife he now held in his hand. He threw it roughly away, watching it bounce lightly on the grass, staining the fresh green with a terrible dark red.
Draco's breaths were more even now, and he slowly eased his eyes open. There, once again, was Hermione's face. God, she was beautiful. Beautiful? What was he saying?? She was horrible, she had just stabbed him in the stomach, for crying out loud! Yet now, more than ever, he found her strangely attractive...
He tried to shake his head, and a small moan of pain escaped his lips. Hermione gently raised his head, eyes huge with concern. "Draco...?"
He tried to smirk, maybe to sneer, but all he managed was a weak smile. Hermione bit her lip, trying to hold back unexpected tears. She found it all absurd: she had stabbed Draco, and was now holding him in her arms, ready to sob. Insane. What was she doing there? She tried to pull the answer from her spinning head, but all her thoughts were suddenly lost as Draco smiled at her. It was a weak, faltering smile, but it reached his eyes. She had never seen him smile like that. It made him look so childish, so innocent... and she had stabbed him. He was going to die. Her fault.
Draco turned his eyes away, taking in gulps of air. He found that Ron was now kneeling beside him as well. Ron tried to smile at him, but the attempt was worse than his own had been. "Alright, then, Malfoy?"
Malfoy tried to keep his breathing even as he managed to splutter out, "Am I going to die?"
There was certainly enough pain for something like death, that was for sure. The other students had formed a silent circle around them, too shell-shocked to run for a teacher. A collective shudder ran through the group as the words left Malfoy's mouth. Even the Gryffindors seemed terrified at the prospect. Harry felt a dull thumping in his ears. It was the sound of blood pumping to his brain, but he fancied it was the sound of blood pumping from Draco's limp body.
Ron stumbled over his words, "Hope not. But I dunno, you're losing loads of blood... Hermione, got any blood clotting spells up your sleeve?"
She shook her head slightly, eyes still fixed on Draco's face as its shades dropped to a white similar to her own. "We haven't covered internal wounds yet."
Draco moaned again, half from pain, half from exasperation. "Doesn't sound too bright..."
"Got any... you know, last words?" Ron struggled to make the words fall from his lips naturally, "I mean, just in case?"
Draco looked silently at the faces surrounding him, taking a deep breath before saying, "Yeah. To three of you."
The circle of students fell back a step. It was obvious who he meant. He managed to roll his head slightly toward Ron. He spoke slowly, deliberately, "Ron, if I don't make it, let me say that I'm sorry. It's just everything gets so complicated when you deal with fathers, you know?"
Ron had no idea what Draco meant, but he had at least heard the part about being sorry. "Yeah. It's okay."
Draco managed to smile weakly again. "No hard feelings then?"
"None."
"You're really not that bad, Ron."
"You too, Draco."
"Tell Alden I'm sorry, too. Tell her..." he managed to twist his face into an almost bitter smile "Tell her good luck at the World Cup."
"Will do."
"Thanks..." Draco painfully rolled his head back around. He was facing Harry. A look of black hatred shot from his slightly feverish eyes. "Potter..."
Harry looked at him dumbly. "You're sorry?"
"Hell no, Potter. You're a god damn fucking bastard. I'm not sorry at all. Just know, if I die, that I truly hate you, you asshole."
Hermione blushed. She had never heard such a string of profanities and hatred, especially from an apparently dying boy. Draco shifted his gaze from a shocked and dazed Harry to the eyes of the girl who now held him so gently that it felt almost tender. "Hermione..."
An electric tingle flew up her spine as he said her name aloud. Odd, now that he was dying, she felt an unexplainable compassion for him, and an odder sense of... attraction? Impossible, but that tingle in her spine... like when Harry looked at her sometimes... "Yes, Draco?"
Words, half-formed thoughts, flew through Draco's head. The sun appeared dimmer now, and he felt light-headed, dizzy. The circle of students started spinning, everything started spinning. Everything but Hermione's face. That alone was clear, seeming to shine out at him through a daze. "Hermione..."
His voice was softer now, a dying whisper. He tried to take a deep breath, but it made his throat burn. He coughed, hardly noticing that he was coughing up blood. Hermione tightened her grip around him, rigid with terror. For one wild second, as she watched a thin trail of blood trickle down his lower lip, she felt truly afraid of losing him. The very thought made no sense, but the feeling of blind panic it caused was real enough. She leaned forward to catch his words, gently wiping away some of the blood on his face as she did. "I'm here. What is it, Draco?"
This might be his last chance. Now or never. "Hermione, I think you should know... if I die, I want you to know... that I have always... truly... despite all appearances... since I meet you... I have -"
"Hold that thought."
Everyone jumped as Alden's voice cut through the air, seeming sharper than the offending knife where it still lay in the grass. She was gliding toward them across the sloping hill, bicolor eyes glittering as though on the inside of some incomprehensible joke. She paused at the edge of the circle, drinking in the scene before her. Her eyes at last settled on Draco's bloody robes, and with a tisking noise she swept forward. Harry moved back, allowing Alden to kneel in his place as she swiftly studied the wound in Draco's stomach. She touched it lightly, and Malfoy stifled a yelp of pain. With a fluid motion, Alden tucked her hair behind her ears and drew out her wand, leaning over Draco's body. Placing one hand gently over the wound, she described a small circle above it with her wand, murmuring ancient words.
Draco felt a sharp pang in his stomach, as though the blade had been once again jabbed into the wound. Then he felt a dull, numb sensation, then nothing. He raised a weak hand to his stomach, feeling the spot. There was still a sickeningly sticky substance across it, but the bleeding had most definitely stopped. He pushed himself lightly onto his elbows. Even his leg felt better. Alden patted his knee reassuringly, "It's not fatal."
He sighed with relief, then realized he was lying across Hermione's lap, still held in her arms, and that Harry was glaring daggers at him. He half wished the wound had been fatal.
After helping Draco rise, Alden picked up the knife. Hermione blushed and looked away, but Alden simply drew a rag from her pocket and cleaned the blade off. She then slid the knife into some hidden fold of her robe, glancing questioningly around the class. She at last followed all other eyes to Hermione, who turned a shade redder.
When she spoke, it wasn't reprimanding or terrifying. With both her green and purple eyes trained on Hermione, she said, in a calm voice that seemed almost normal, "I don't care who did this or why. Just don't let me catch anyone with one of my little daggers again."
Hermione started opening her mouth to protest that she had no idea how it got into her pocket or why she had used it, but Alden shook her head. "It's no one's fault." She drew the blade out again. It was gleaming a little, with a slightly orange tint. "This one's enchanted. Drawn to strong emotions." A wry grin shot across her face. "Most people don't get worked up enough to summon it, but," she slid it back into her pocket, "I'll keep a better eye on it now. Just so this doesn't happen again."
Ron watched Alden's eyes closely. He didn't like the light in them, the almost devious light that lay glimmering just beneath their bright colors. It must just be the excitement, he decided. He wanted to talk to her later anyway.

They had been by the sea for the entire vacation, but now that they had to leave, they couldn't tear their eyes away from its awesome beauty. Barry glanced again at his watch, and with a heavy heart patted Jenni on the shoulder. "We'll miss the train home if we don't leave now."
She looked at him mournfully, then they slowly rose, taking one last look at the sea. Barry gently took Jenni's arm, drawing her slowly away. "We'll come back over the summer."
Jenni turned, following his lead. "After you get back from Hogwarts."
Barry threw his arm gently over her shoulder. "After I get back from Hogwarts."