Chapter 6
The boy who lived laid sprawled across a bed in the Hospital Wing. His body: bruised and broken. He was paralyzed, not for life, but at the moment. His eyes were closed and concealed behind his untidy black hair. His glasses rested on the nightstand next to him, the lenses cracked and chipped. However, despite his position he was awake. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to speak. Nor did he want to see or hear. In fact, at that moment he didn't even want to breathe. He knew he was in deep trouble, not only with Hogwarts but with the Ministry as well.
Across from him was a bed hid behind curtains. He knew his enemy Draco Malfoy was dissembled there. He knew of Draco's condition as well. He had overheard Madame Pomfrey talking with Headmaster Dumbledore. Draco seemed to have suffered third degree burns and a small concussion. He didn't care though; he had no sympathy for the Slytherin. To be honest, he couldn't feel much of anything these past few days. He couldn't even worry about the future, about what would happen when he healed. He didn't care how much trouble he was going to get in; he just knew he was in deep. The only thing he really could feel was the fact that he felt as if all emotion had been drained from him.
He could barely even think. It seemed the only thing he was capable of was staring at the ceiling absentmindedly. At night he wouldn't even dream. He would just simply be embraced by darkness. Often he would hear Madame Pomfrey fuss over him; forcing him to eat something. He didn't understand though. What was the point of living? Why was anyone's life really important; they would just die anyways. Why wait?
No one came to visit him, not even Hermione or Ron [his suspension ended two days ago]. He had missed the day he was supposed to have tea with Hagrid. He didn't care though. Nothing mattered now.
There was a knock on the infirmary door. He of course ignored this though. Madame Pomfrey quickly walked passed him and greeted the guest. He heard the sound of a door closing and the swooshing of robes. He then heard the scraping of curtains being pulled back. He found himself wishing he were deaf.
"Mr. Malfoy, you have a visitor" rang Madame Pomfrey's voice. There was a groan and the rattling of a chair being pulled across the room.
"I brought you today's homework. If you want you can copy my notes. I-" he recognized that voice. It was the ever-sweet voice of Hermione Granger. He had heard that voice many times during his second recovery in the Hospital Wing. She was always brining Draco his homework and offering him the chance to copy her notes. The conversation always ended the same though. It was like everyday was the same as before, it was as if someone was constantly pressing the replay button in his life.
"Why do you keep doing this Granger? You know I don't like you or your filthy muggle blood. Why don't you just do me a favor and die?" came the horse voice of the burned, blonde-haired Slytherin. A silence followed. He could tell the girl was hurt, but why, he had no clue.
"I-it's just, well, I feel guilty you know? About what happened, no one deserved that. Not even you." He then heard a thud [she must of jumped] and the padding of feet hitting the floor. The door creaked open then slammed shut. This was all so predicable. You would think these people would give up by now and just try something new for a change.
The sound of curtains being pulled together told him Madame Pomfrey was back. There was another knock at the door. Didn't these people have anything better to do with their lives? The smell of hot chicken noodle soup filled the air. He assumed one of the house elves had brought him and Draco their lunch. There was muttering and a loud thunk as trays were set onto the nightstands next to both the patients.
He felt the left side of his mattress sag as Madame Pomfrey sat down. "I know you're awake Harry" she whispered as she stroked the hair away from his emerald eyes. "I know you don't want to eat, but you need to" she informed him softly. He did nothing. A spoon of hot soup was forced into his mouth. He obediently swallowed, not entirely in the mood for Madame Pomfrey's fussing. When the last bit of soup was in his belly she stood and walked over to Draco, feeding him the way she did Harry.
He mentally sighed. Days in the infirmary were getting dull. He willingly allowed sleep to take over him.
* * *
He awoke close to midnight, eyes still closed. He strained his ears and found himself eavesdropping on a conversation between Headmaster Dumbledore and someone he didn't recognize. Somewhere in the conversation his name popped up.
"The best thing to do would send him to Azkaban. The dementors can deal with him," hissed the voice he didn't know. Azkaban? Let them do what they want, doesn't matter. Just going to die anyways. Why not add another reason to look forward to it?
"No. I will not allow you to do that. This boy needs help, not punishment" came the voice of Dumbledore. He didn't need help. He needed pain.
"I would have agreed if Lucious hadn't filed a complaint. He's doing everything he can to bring this boy there. He does put up a rather good argument."
"Either way he is not going to Azkaban. If you put him in there it'll only make matters worse. The dementors will drown him even deeper into the sea of insanity." If he felt like it, he would have laughed. Who did this person think he was? He wasn't insane.
The mystery man sighed. "What do you suggest we do then? Surely the boy can't stay here. There's no telling what he'll do next."
"I have Severus brewing some potions right now."
"Not to be rude but what does that have to do with anything?"
"It is important because the potion is a calming potion. In fact Madame Pomfrey has been giving them to him daily. I have seen no strange behavior from him since he first started taking it." He couldn't listen anymore. These people were bloody insane. Calming potion, bah! Whoever heard of such a crazy thing? Ah well, if they wanted to be dumb he may as well let them. He sighed and allowed darkness to embrace him into a tight hug.
* * *
The next morning Madame Pomfrey was running around the infirmary. Harry Potter was terribly sick and delusional. There was a knock on the door, the woman ran to answer it. She sighed with relief as Dumbledore stepped inside, a worried look planted on his face.
"I don't know what's wrong sir. He keeps asking for Sirius Black and his parents. Earlier today he even asked for Remus. I don't know what to do. I don't know what's wrong sir, I really don't. I-" the headmaster held up his hand for silence. She quickly closed her mouth and followed him to Harry's bedside.
He was very pale. His eyes were snapped open and was shaking slightly. He couldn't feel any part of his body. He wanted Sirius, his mum, and his dad. He wanted Remus. He wanted everyone he had to consider family by his side. If at all possible his eyes opened even more. His mouth opening and closing like a fish's.
"Si-Sirius he-he he's going to die! Get me Dumbledore! V-Voldemort he- he's going to kill Sirius!" he screamed, shaking violently. The color drained from Madame Pomfrey's face. She sat at the end of the mattress and rubbed Harry's legs. She tried desperately to calm him. Dumbledore too looked extremely worried.
"He's been like this all day," she whispered, her voice quivering.
"Give him a sleeping potion. Come and fetch me when he wakes." She nodded and ran to get the potion. Dumbledore cupped his hand around Harry's right cheek. "I know Harry. I know," he whispered sadly. He brung his hand back to his side and quickly walked to the door. Madame Pomfrey came back into the room, potion in hand.
"Where are you going?"
"I must go write a letter," he opened the door and shut it. Madame Pomfrey released a sigh and forced the potion down Harry's throat. He coughed, and then slowly drifted to sleep. "Poor baby," she said while pushing his hair away from his eyes. "Madame Pomfrey?" called a weak voice from across the room.
"What is it Mr.Malfoy?" she sighed.
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"Then use the bedpan."
"It's full already." She sighed again and silently wished Snape would give another detention.
A/N - How was that? Not as fun and not as much action as the last chapter but, yeah. Ok, I'm sorry if this story becomes really strange and all, to tell you the truth I have no idea of what's going to happen in the future. The good news is that I have an idea for why he's acting like he is and why he is going insane. Can you guess why? Heh, anyways. Do you all think I making this story too extreme and over dramatic? If so please tell me. Thanks for all reviews.
The boy who lived laid sprawled across a bed in the Hospital Wing. His body: bruised and broken. He was paralyzed, not for life, but at the moment. His eyes were closed and concealed behind his untidy black hair. His glasses rested on the nightstand next to him, the lenses cracked and chipped. However, despite his position he was awake. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to speak. Nor did he want to see or hear. In fact, at that moment he didn't even want to breathe. He knew he was in deep trouble, not only with Hogwarts but with the Ministry as well.
Across from him was a bed hid behind curtains. He knew his enemy Draco Malfoy was dissembled there. He knew of Draco's condition as well. He had overheard Madame Pomfrey talking with Headmaster Dumbledore. Draco seemed to have suffered third degree burns and a small concussion. He didn't care though; he had no sympathy for the Slytherin. To be honest, he couldn't feel much of anything these past few days. He couldn't even worry about the future, about what would happen when he healed. He didn't care how much trouble he was going to get in; he just knew he was in deep. The only thing he really could feel was the fact that he felt as if all emotion had been drained from him.
He could barely even think. It seemed the only thing he was capable of was staring at the ceiling absentmindedly. At night he wouldn't even dream. He would just simply be embraced by darkness. Often he would hear Madame Pomfrey fuss over him; forcing him to eat something. He didn't understand though. What was the point of living? Why was anyone's life really important; they would just die anyways. Why wait?
No one came to visit him, not even Hermione or Ron [his suspension ended two days ago]. He had missed the day he was supposed to have tea with Hagrid. He didn't care though. Nothing mattered now.
There was a knock on the infirmary door. He of course ignored this though. Madame Pomfrey quickly walked passed him and greeted the guest. He heard the sound of a door closing and the swooshing of robes. He then heard the scraping of curtains being pulled back. He found himself wishing he were deaf.
"Mr. Malfoy, you have a visitor" rang Madame Pomfrey's voice. There was a groan and the rattling of a chair being pulled across the room.
"I brought you today's homework. If you want you can copy my notes. I-" he recognized that voice. It was the ever-sweet voice of Hermione Granger. He had heard that voice many times during his second recovery in the Hospital Wing. She was always brining Draco his homework and offering him the chance to copy her notes. The conversation always ended the same though. It was like everyday was the same as before, it was as if someone was constantly pressing the replay button in his life.
"Why do you keep doing this Granger? You know I don't like you or your filthy muggle blood. Why don't you just do me a favor and die?" came the horse voice of the burned, blonde-haired Slytherin. A silence followed. He could tell the girl was hurt, but why, he had no clue.
"I-it's just, well, I feel guilty you know? About what happened, no one deserved that. Not even you." He then heard a thud [she must of jumped] and the padding of feet hitting the floor. The door creaked open then slammed shut. This was all so predicable. You would think these people would give up by now and just try something new for a change.
The sound of curtains being pulled together told him Madame Pomfrey was back. There was another knock at the door. Didn't these people have anything better to do with their lives? The smell of hot chicken noodle soup filled the air. He assumed one of the house elves had brought him and Draco their lunch. There was muttering and a loud thunk as trays were set onto the nightstands next to both the patients.
He felt the left side of his mattress sag as Madame Pomfrey sat down. "I know you're awake Harry" she whispered as she stroked the hair away from his emerald eyes. "I know you don't want to eat, but you need to" she informed him softly. He did nothing. A spoon of hot soup was forced into his mouth. He obediently swallowed, not entirely in the mood for Madame Pomfrey's fussing. When the last bit of soup was in his belly she stood and walked over to Draco, feeding him the way she did Harry.
He mentally sighed. Days in the infirmary were getting dull. He willingly allowed sleep to take over him.
* * *
He awoke close to midnight, eyes still closed. He strained his ears and found himself eavesdropping on a conversation between Headmaster Dumbledore and someone he didn't recognize. Somewhere in the conversation his name popped up.
"The best thing to do would send him to Azkaban. The dementors can deal with him," hissed the voice he didn't know. Azkaban? Let them do what they want, doesn't matter. Just going to die anyways. Why not add another reason to look forward to it?
"No. I will not allow you to do that. This boy needs help, not punishment" came the voice of Dumbledore. He didn't need help. He needed pain.
"I would have agreed if Lucious hadn't filed a complaint. He's doing everything he can to bring this boy there. He does put up a rather good argument."
"Either way he is not going to Azkaban. If you put him in there it'll only make matters worse. The dementors will drown him even deeper into the sea of insanity." If he felt like it, he would have laughed. Who did this person think he was? He wasn't insane.
The mystery man sighed. "What do you suggest we do then? Surely the boy can't stay here. There's no telling what he'll do next."
"I have Severus brewing some potions right now."
"Not to be rude but what does that have to do with anything?"
"It is important because the potion is a calming potion. In fact Madame Pomfrey has been giving them to him daily. I have seen no strange behavior from him since he first started taking it." He couldn't listen anymore. These people were bloody insane. Calming potion, bah! Whoever heard of such a crazy thing? Ah well, if they wanted to be dumb he may as well let them. He sighed and allowed darkness to embrace him into a tight hug.
* * *
The next morning Madame Pomfrey was running around the infirmary. Harry Potter was terribly sick and delusional. There was a knock on the door, the woman ran to answer it. She sighed with relief as Dumbledore stepped inside, a worried look planted on his face.
"I don't know what's wrong sir. He keeps asking for Sirius Black and his parents. Earlier today he even asked for Remus. I don't know what to do. I don't know what's wrong sir, I really don't. I-" the headmaster held up his hand for silence. She quickly closed her mouth and followed him to Harry's bedside.
He was very pale. His eyes were snapped open and was shaking slightly. He couldn't feel any part of his body. He wanted Sirius, his mum, and his dad. He wanted Remus. He wanted everyone he had to consider family by his side. If at all possible his eyes opened even more. His mouth opening and closing like a fish's.
"Si-Sirius he-he he's going to die! Get me Dumbledore! V-Voldemort he- he's going to kill Sirius!" he screamed, shaking violently. The color drained from Madame Pomfrey's face. She sat at the end of the mattress and rubbed Harry's legs. She tried desperately to calm him. Dumbledore too looked extremely worried.
"He's been like this all day," she whispered, her voice quivering.
"Give him a sleeping potion. Come and fetch me when he wakes." She nodded and ran to get the potion. Dumbledore cupped his hand around Harry's right cheek. "I know Harry. I know," he whispered sadly. He brung his hand back to his side and quickly walked to the door. Madame Pomfrey came back into the room, potion in hand.
"Where are you going?"
"I must go write a letter," he opened the door and shut it. Madame Pomfrey released a sigh and forced the potion down Harry's throat. He coughed, and then slowly drifted to sleep. "Poor baby," she said while pushing his hair away from his eyes. "Madame Pomfrey?" called a weak voice from across the room.
"What is it Mr.Malfoy?" she sighed.
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"Then use the bedpan."
"It's full already." She sighed again and silently wished Snape would give another detention.
A/N - How was that? Not as fun and not as much action as the last chapter but, yeah. Ok, I'm sorry if this story becomes really strange and all, to tell you the truth I have no idea of what's going to happen in the future. The good news is that I have an idea for why he's acting like he is and why he is going insane. Can you guess why? Heh, anyways. Do you all think I making this story too extreme and over dramatic? If so please tell me. Thanks for all reviews.